


First Nights

by JazzKat1213



Series: We’ve Made It This Far [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora Has Issues (She-Ra), Adora is a little oblivious, Angst, Basically a build up to their second kiss, Best Friend Squad (She-Ra), But It's Really Just Comfort, But they're also repressed gay disasters, Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Catra (She-Ra) Acts Like a Cat, Catra Has Issues (She-Ra), Character Study, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Hordak Has No Rights, Is it really emotional vulnerability if it happens in the woods and no one sees?, Making Out, Melog does not expose Catra as much as they could, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Redemption Continuation, Romantic Tension, They're trying okay, but it's not sexual, season 5 continuation, showering together, so much hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25575313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzKat1213/pseuds/JazzKat1213
Summary: Yeah, their love saved the universe, yes, the war is over and every one is alive. Yes, there's still a lot of things for them all to try and figure out.After that there’s no rest. Adora isn’t surprised that she doesn’t get a second to just breathe after everything. She hasn't even begun to process the Heart and everything that happened there, and she's sure she's not going to be able to for a while. The endless wave of congratulations doesn’t feel real, nothing feels real. Nothing except the weight of Catra’s hand in hers. After talking with Swift Wind she had walked back over to her...whatever they were now. The question sits heavy with so many others, but she had pushed it aside, instead taking Catra’s hand and refusing to let go. Whenever Catra tries to pull away, feign annoyance or put that mask back on, she doesn’t let her. Catra gives up after a third try, understanding dawning on her face that Adora needs her, truly needs her to get through this wholly novel experience. She’s the only thing keeping Adora on the ground. She didn’t realise how much she needed the light prick of clawtips against the back of her hand when Catra twines their fingers together properly.“I’m not going anywhere.”
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: We’ve Made It This Far [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759741
Comments: 44
Kudos: 177
Collections: my favorite she ra canon compliant fics





	1. Prologue: Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the day after the finale. And so it begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been working on this as a side project for a long fucking time. I just hope that you guys love it as much as I do.  
> This is just the set-up chapter though so it's got that 'lets just get through this quickly' kinda feel at the beginning sorry. Tried to keep exposition to a minimum. Didn't exactly work but thank you to my beta **toffii** for helping to make it bearable.  
> 

It would take them two days to get back to Brightmoon.

There’s an undeniable air of restlessness hovering over the plains. Horde Prime is defeated, Etherian magic surging powerfully through everything, greenery covering every inch of land. But there were people who had grown up in this war - had never known life without it - that couldn’t sleep out in the open. Small parties were sent for supplies nearby, mostly made of those who had magic or wings or both. Glimmer offered to teleport everyone back to their last base, but her offer had been denied for her own wellbeing. Plus no one could deny their intrigue towards the newly rebirthed world around them. And so the camp that’s made is small and flimsy and full of friends to heal, which Adora does so without request. She-Ra could wait to rest yet. 

Hordak was put in magical chains by Micah, immobilized by the magic. Even still, Frosta insisted on guarding him, as she (rightfully) doubted Entrapta and Wrong Hordak would remember that he was in fact meant to be in chains. No one knew what to do about the scattered clones wandering aimlessly. Most seemed to shut down without orders, huddled together in clumps of motionless white. 

“Where’s Shadow Weaver?”  
“She’s gone.”  
It’s not brought up again.

The only thing overshadowing exhaustion is the immense relief that courses its way through the Rebellion. The Rebellion that is no longer needed, for there is nothing to rebel against. Soldiers, friends, Princesses and civilians start dropping off to sleep one by one around a series of glowing spells inlaid in grass. The stars and moons shine brightly above, illuminating the new world in brilliant light, rendering the spells useful only for their emanating warmth.

* * *

***Adora***

* * *

As much as Adora wants to continue helping, her mind demands that she needs to, she’s not allowed. Her friends - mostly Catra - simply prevent her from doing so. She-Ra isn’t allowed to help people. It feels wrong. But it doesn’t take long for her to understand why. Adrenaline that seems to have been coursing through her veins for years burns away quickly. She’s never been so fucking tired. Or so happy. 

Having just saved the Universe ( _”I can’t believe we just saved the Universe, guys!” “Can’t believe I helped.” “Catra shut up and let’s just enjoy this.”_ ) and having just healed maybe the entirety of the Princess Alliance, she and the rest of the Best Friend Squad are excused from retrieving food and water and salvaging campsite remains. That doesn’t mean Glimmer doesn’t teleport said supplies out of spite. By the time she’s done, she looks about ready to pass out along with the rest of them. And yet they stay awake in green grass, staring up at the remains of Horde Prime’s ship in the sky.

“I can’t believe you turned an evil galactic Emperors head ship into a fucking tree, Adora,” Catra says with fake exasperation. It makes them all erupt in laughter from an undefinable mix of emotions. Golden orbs of magic flit around their heads, landing occasionally on the four of them, causing Catra to sneeze and Bow to ‘aw’ after her, prompting still more laughs. 

There were some tense moments when everyone started coming down from the post-battle euphoria, especially one involving Mermista. She was (is) less than willing to accept that Catra has changed. Sea Hawk, for once in his life, had stayed silent. Adora didn’t know what would’ve come of it in any other situation, but Mermista was tired and she didn’t want to fight, not anymore, not at the end of a war. It just served to remind Adora that everything wasn’t going to be as easy as she maybe hoped it was going to be.  
_‘New kinds of battles to fight’_. The thought is not a reassuring one.

She isn’t allowed to stew in her thoughts for long as she finds herself tackled by a horse. “Adora!”  
“Swift Wind!”  
She feels wings hug her and she throws her arms around his neck. His excitement and energy is infectious and how awfully tired she is suddenly doesn’t seem to matter as much. “You did it!”  
“Well not alone, but yeah. We did!” She pulls back from the strange embrace.  
“Really? I didn’t see anyone other than She-Ra magically heal the planet with rainbows! That was so awesome!”  
“I know!” She shakes her head and takes a breath, knowing that she’ll crash if she keeps up this energy. She turns to Catra but she’s not there, she’s with Melog and Emily, watching them chase each other. She feels herself smile. “But I wouldn’t have done it without Catra okay? She saved me.” She hears her voice go ridiculously soft at the end and it almost makes her wince.  
“Okay…” This is probably not the last time they’ll be talking about this. He’s not exactly Catra’s biggest fan.

“Hey, I know you might be tired but can you do something for me?”  
“As your loyal steed I will do anything.” He doesn’t seem all that tired, actually, still flipping his mane with as much flare as usual.  
“Can you fly to Brightmoon, let them know what’s happened and that we’ll be coming back soon?”  
“Of course.”  
“Thanks Swifty.”  
  
  


After that there’s no rest. Adora isn’t surprised that she doesn’t get a second to just _breathe _after everything. She hasn't even begun to process the Heart and everything that happened there, and she's sure she's not going to be able to for a while. The endless wave of congratulations doesn’t feel real, nothing feels real. Nothing except the weight of Catra’s hand in hers. After talking with Swift Wind she had walked back over to her...whatever they were now. The question sits heavy with so many others, but she had pushed it aside, instead taking Catra’s hand and refusing to let go. Whenever Catra tries to pull away, feign annoyance or put that mask back on, she doesn’t let her. Catra gives up after a third try, understanding dawning on her face that Adora needs her, truly needs her to get through this wholly novel experience. She’s the only thing keeping Adora on the ground. She didn’t realise how much she needed the light prick of clawtips against the back of her hand when Catra twines their fingers together properly.__

____

“I’m not going anywhere.”  
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that?”  
Catra just stutters at that, blush staining her cheeks, but melancholy tainting her eyes. Catra never finds the right answer.

____

* * *

____

They’re sitting along the forest brink, in the camp, and the sky has never looked so bright with stars. Stars she still can’t believe are back. They don’t eat much, hardly any food was scavenged at all, but it’s enough. Everyone’s in little groups of two or three around the spells in the ground; it’s quiet, but comfortable. The exhaustion settles like a blanket over them all. Adora keeps sparing glances at Glimmer, where she’s sitting with her dad, aunt and Bow. She looks content and untroubled in a way Adora’s never seen, she wouldn’t be surprised if there are sparkles leaking out her fingertips because of it. And she’s so happy for them, she doubts there are people who deserve happiness more than those around her.

____

But she’s sitting with Catra and Melog, and it feels like she can’t take her eyes off of her, stars be damned. There’s this little voice in her head reminding her to look away like she’s done, tried to do, her whole life. But it’s okay, finally it’s okay, because Catra is looking at her too. They’re pressed together at their sides, and Adora thinks if she were a little braver she’d lean her head against Catra’s shoulder, breathe her in. But she isn’t and she doesn’t. Instead she stands when they’ve eaten, holding her hand out to Catra, ignoring any looks they may or may not be getting. Catra’s lips twitch up in a confused half-smile, like she doesn’t think there’s anywhere else for them to go.

____

“Come on.”  
Catra takes her hand anyway, and Adora leads them back out onto the plain, Melog trotting along behind them.  
  


____

Adora walks with Catra (and Melog) into the thick grass, away from the rest of the camp. Maybe it meant they had to sacrifice bed rolls and blankets to the others, but Adora doesn’t care. She regrets having to let go of Catra’s hand to take off her jacket and lie down but the feeling dissipates as Catra stares at the sky with her, close enough to touch if she wanted. And she does want, she always has - she can finally admit that now without feeling crushed. She _wants_ to hold her and run her hands through her hair and kiss her breathless and so, so much more and it’s...terrifying.  
The sheer amount of want that floods through her, newly free, without the restraint of misunderstandings and betrayal. Maybe it’s their seclusion, that fact that they’re almost alone that makes it so hard to touch her. It’s incapacitating. And ironic considering how she used to only really feel safe touching Catra when they were alone and sheltered by night time. 

____

“Think this is the first time I’ve seen them properly. I got taken by Prime before I could see them from Etheria,” Catra whispers, not looking at her. She’s grateful for the distraction, looking skywards as well.  
“Worth the wait?”  
“Guess so.”

____

She sits up slightly to shove at her shoulder and Catra giggles with it, carefree and happy. It’s the laugh that she keeps secret, for Adora only. Gods, Adora’s wanted to hear that sound for so long. She’s missed it so much. Missed _her_ so much. She wants to spend the rest of her life hearing that sound. And maybe she can, maybe Catra will let her.

____

_‘But other things won’t.’_ The thought isn’t entirely a new one, just mutated by new circumstances. She-Ra still has things to do, she always will. Someone always needs help, and she’s got to be there for it.

____

Adora settles back into the green below, unprepared when Catra turns onto her side and looks at her, eyes sparkling with starlight. “Goodnight Adora.”  
“Night Catra.” She hates how breathless she sounds. 

____

But then Catra smiles, small and soft, and she might as well forget oxygen entirely. She loses her soft glow of her eyes when they close and Adora silently mourns the loss as air comes back. Catra’s purrs rumble through the ground as she relaxes into it, breaths steady as she tries to fall asleep. 

____

The stars above call her eyes towards them, the spattering of white and pastel blue and gold in the inky sky, view undisturbed by clouds. The hum of activity lessens till the only sound left is the gentle tremors beside her and the rush of breeze through leaves. She closes her eyes finally, willing the earlier exhaustion to take her. It doesn’t. The silence aids itself to a storm of thought as it always does, keeps her mind whirring. There’s too much to think about; She-Ra, Prime, the Heart, _Catra_ , the future. It keeps her tense on her back, eyes fluttering between the sky and the skin behind her eyelids, keeps her listening for anything at all because the quiet purrs have stopped. 

____

“Adora, just fucking go to sleep.”  
She tries and fails not to startle when Catra speaks, despite the low volume of her voice. “I can't, Catra, what if someone needs help with something?” It’s not the only thing on her mind, but it’s good enough for now. There’s too much to say out loud.

____

“Then someone else can do it. Or She-Ra can do it in the morning.” Adora sighs and it sends some of the gold far above them scattering. She wants to tell her everything, but she can’t, not right now, out in the open. Catra will understand that better than anyone. “You saved the entire Universe today-“  
“- We -“  
“- Sure, whatever. But now you need to go to sleep idiot. Otherwise you’re going to crash and burn. Now are you going to sleep or am I going to have to make you?”  
She scoffs, “You can’t ‘make me’.”  
“Oh really?”

____

Catra pulls her right arm out from it’s stick straight position at her side and climbs half on top of her, warmth in a solid line at Adora’s side. And just like that breathing is forgotten again. She forces air back into her lungs but it’s hard with Catra’s heat soaking through her skin and settling in her bones. She thinks she might go into shock, she might very well _be_ in shock. She’s certainly rigid enough. Catra is unmoving on top of her; she’s scared too. 

She made reaching out look so easy. She ignores the irony of that. She realises it’s because Catra’s tired, remembering how much easier it was for both of them to give in to that insatiable need to be close to one another under the protection of darkness. That need she didn’t understand until too late. It makes her wrap her arms around Catra’s shoulders, the regret shrouding the fear, allowing her to move. Catra relaxes her head into her chest, keeps her ear there like she’s making sure her heart’s beating. 

____

Gods, she’s wanted this for as long as she can remember; to hold Catra like this. To cradle her and _love_ her without the reason being Catra’s pain. She should’ve seen how deep the scars ran, should’ve held her anyway. She was just always too scared; of rejection, of commanding officers punishing them for showing signs of weakness in affection, of Shadow Weaver. But none of them are here. She’s lost count of how many times she’s cried over thoughts of _‘what if I was braver?’_ Would she have gotten to have this sooner? 

____

There’s tears pricking at her eyes when she comes back out of her head, drawn away by Catra subconsciously rubbing her cheek against her collarbone. And amidst the sadness and longing for things to have been like this sooner, there’s the joyful choir singing _‘finally’_. Because right now the ‘what ifs’ don’t matter; she has it. Her. Finally has _her._

____

An arm is thrown over Adora’s abdomen in a sleep-addled hug. She squeezes Catra into her more and it starts that purr back up again. Her thoughts run silent, consumed only by years of longing made true; the blackness behind closed eyes isn’t scary, and she hears the call of sleep again. 

____

Catra’s purr rolls through her chest as she succumbs to sleep, familiar thunder, like coming home.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some soft angsty gays. A bit of character/relationship study at the end and there’s gonna be a lot more of that in the next 2 chapters. Get ready for nervous life-long best friends trying to figure out how to do romantic affection after being told they couldn’t do it their whole lives. Also healthy communication and PTSD.


	2. Day 2 (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alliance parts ways to begin the war reparations while the rest start their return to Brightmoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Catra and Adora have a lot of issues ™ but I do not have these same issues so I’m aware they’re probably not portrayed accurately, sorry. Feel free to let me know how to make it more accurate for future fics :)
> 
> There were so many characters to deal with jesus christ so I really did have to get rid of a lot of them. But like at the same time I think it’s plausible. I mean even with all the people I send off there’s still 9 characters to deal with. 
> 
> Also thank Noelle for giving Catra a kitty cat therapist, girl needs it.
> 
> Also had to do a quick edit based on Noelle’s “Adora’s never thought about kissing anyone before” thing so. (Even if I don’t exactly agree with it because I’ve watched Princess Prom ok?)

* * *

***Adora***

* * *

Adora wakes to the moonrise above her that stains the sky orange, yellow, blue. But the painted clouds don’t hold her attention long, her gaze is dragged back down to the planet’s surface; everything is green - so it hadn’t been a dream then. They really did it. It’s over. 

It’s like she’s able to breathe for the first time in her life. Even the air tastes of magic, it almost crackles on her tongue. 

She might be outside but she’s so unbelievably _warm_ , Catra a furnace on top of her. She’s always been that way, a strange constant in Adora’s life. Even in the sweltering heat of summer in the Fright Zone she couldn’t get enough of her burning pulse. She’s reminded of how many times in her life she’s compared Catra to a flame; destructive, angry and consuming but also warm, beautiful, and _home_. 

She never wants to move again. But she’ll have to. She presses her head into the ground so she can look back at the camp behind her. Some are already awake, shuffling around a used up spell that no longer glows - burnt out with time. 

She can’t see much else so turns back to the endless expanse of sky and the woman she loves curled around her. Catra’s asleep peacefully on her chest, Adora’s own arms still wrapped around her shoulders, almost protectively. She loosens her hold, keeping this moment gentle. 

Their legs got more tangled in the night and it makes her smile. A rush of feelings threatens to overwhelm her; there’s too many times she’s wanted this: to wake up with Catra in her arms, or herself in Catra’s. She doesn’t really care as long as it simply _happened_. And it’s happening right now. 

For the first time they are together in the morning and they can stay that way. Catra’s not up in her bunk above her, leaving Adora with the ghost of her warmth. She’s not waking Catra up earlier than the rest of the cadets, forcing her grumbling sleepy form off the end of the bed so they don’t get caught. She's not alone in her Brightmoon room staring at the space where it feels like Catra should be. She’s real and she’s here. 

And Adora is scared. Again. She swallows against nothing. Of all things to be scared of, why this? It’s not fair. Some part of her doesn’t want to believe it just in case it’s a dream again, her heart’s too full in this space, waking up would kill her. Memories have come to be as worse an enemy as any in reality, and they promise to ruin everything right now. Pale pink portal comes creeping through her head; perfection she couldn’t keep.

She tries to just breathe, to force all thoughts from her head. She tightens her grip on Catra, though she doesn’t want to, she’s just trying to drown her thoughts in the happiness that sits alongside the fear. It’s selfish but she needs it. Catra wants her to want? Well she wants this. She buries her head into Catra’s hair, the smell of home she never forgot bringing her back to as close to bliss as she’s ever gotten.

A soft mew from Melog as they wake breaks Adora’s trance. Their movement rocks Catra slightly and Adora’s almost angry because of it, Catra deserves all the sleep she damn well needs and nothing should get in the way of that. She glares at the cat over the top of Catra’s head as they stalk back into the fringes of the trees, where more people are waking in a steady stream, but Melog takes no notice of her.

Catra’s hand rests on her hip, claws held there gently before the arm squeezes tighter as she’s dragged from sleep. Adora doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t think there is anything she could say that wouldn’t shatter this fragile moment. 

She lets her head thump back to the ground; she was being selfish and she doesn’t know if it’s okay. Catra buries her face deeper into her chest, she feels rather than hears the purr that starts up with consciousness. It eases the guilt and fear that ripples through her, stilling the pool of her emotions.

One of her hands raises up to run through Catra’s cut hair, she hates the way it shakes from this _too much_ she feels. Something catches in her throat because she can do this now, Catra won’t bite or snarl or hiss to keep that mask on. Adora will never have to see the regret and sadness in Catra’s eyes when she tears herself away after falling victim to forbidden intimacy again. Because deep down she’s always known how much Catra craved those touches but was too afraid to let herself have them. Adora knows the feeling. 

She doesn’t know how awake Catra really is, and she doesn’t want to. This bubble of _them_ is one of the best things she’s ever felt. And to know would be to move. She could die here, happier than she’s ever been.  
  


Catra stirs fully after a while, moving only her head so that she can look at her. Her hand drops from its place in Catra’s hair, falling limp to the ground. Adora doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything as beautiful as the sleep-soft smile and glow of split eyes in front of her, Catra blinks slowly. The only thing filling her thoughts is Catra; her name, her eyes as they adjust to the light, her purrs and her fur under her other hand. 

“Hey Adora.” Her voice is gravelly with sleep and it’s the best thing Adora’s ever heard. 

She feels her face break into a smile so wide it makes Catra duck her head (she’s pretty sure Catra’s blushing.) She can see the slow realisation on Catra’s face as it dawns on her that this is the first time they’ve woken up together. Knows because she's already worked through that awe that sits light as a feather in her chest. The side of Catra’s mouth quirks up in a smile. They don’t say anything else. They just look, unsure what to do with the emotions that exist between them. 

Adora wants to kiss her. The realisation comes barrelling down, pressing heavy on her lungs. She almost can’t breathe under it. It’s like something clicks. She’s never understood why her eyes would get drawn to Catra’s mouth even when she wasn’t speaking, just like she’s never paid that much attention to the voice in her head that would scream at her to get closer. She was an idiot. She holds in a laugh as she realises every time she’s wanted to kiss Catra. It’s _a lot_. 

Her eyes flick to Catra’s mouth now. (She’s done that a lot more than she originally thought given the way she knows their shape better than the layout of her own room.) She knows she can press forward and it won’t ruin everything like she always thought giving in to her feelings would, but she doesn’t move. 

Maybe it’s the clang and hum of people behind her, maybe it’s the poisonous fear that drips in her head or maybe the _‘too much’_ is paralysing her. She’s trying to let herself want it, but there’s a cavernous gap between wanting and taking. 

She’s almost grateful for the loud noise behind them, for the way it takes Catra’s eyes off her and makes her ears flick forward. She huffs a breath like a laugh and Catra looks back down. The moment is broken but she thinks it's okay - Catra isn’t going to run from this and pretend it never happened. She’s surrounded by friends not cadets. And more importantly, there’ll be more moments like this. They don’t have to sneak around in the dark corners of the Fright Zone a few months later to have this closeness again. 

Catra looks something like bashful, it’s not a look Adora’s ever really seen on her before and she should not find it as cute as she does. But she’s always adored the way Catra’s blush stains her face darker, maybe because it’s so incredibly rare. She wants to feel the heat of it under her hands but she abstains for now, trying to assure herself there’ll be other chances to. 

She watches intently when Catra moves off her and stretches out her spine, (she represses a shiver at the sudden rush of air on her side.) She sits up only to find that she can’t take her eyes off the figure beside her. Catra tries to smooth down her hair a bit and Adora can’t resist the smile that forms when it doesn’t work at all. 

Catra catches her and rolls her eyes, coming back over to brush some grass off her arm. It’s so small and yet it threatens to reignite the heat on both their faces. She pulls her jacket on quickly and takes the hand Catra offers her to stand. It’s awkward and unsure and nervous and Adora feels the same way. 

She doesn’t keep the hand, though she wants to. She just takes the warmth of Catra beside her instead, still smiling as they walk to the main camp together.

* * *

  
“Well, what do we do now?”  
“We go home,” the amount of relief and joy Glimmer exudes at the thought is contagious. Adora doesn’t even let the thoughts concerning what might have become of Brightmoon under Prime poison it. 

She watches the way Bow’s arm tightens around Glimmer, and something feels different. They were (are) always touching, Adora isn’t so oblivious as to not see it, but this is just...different. They’re both blushing lightly for starters, eyes never staying in the same place for too long. But she doesn’t say anything, if they want to tell her, they’ll tell her. 

Hordak is bound to a tree in magic chains, and somewhere Adora feels like he could escape if he really wanted to, but he looks oddly content. Resigned in a way. Entrapta and Wrong Hordak (they really should give him a different name) are talking to him and she’s as animated as ever. Emily seems nonpurplused by the situation, but then again, Emily is a robot without a face. Catra’s eyes keep flicking to him and Adora doesn’t know what it means, but maybe she’ll know eventually.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

_‘At least he’s not walking free like Shadow Weaver was.’_

The thought is bad and bitter and tainted with a whole mess of emotions she doesn’t want, but she can’t help it. She doesn’t want to think about any of them, not Shadow Weaver, not Hordak, not fucking Prime. She thought maybe she’d get to glide along on the victory high for at least a few days, but of fucking course not. 

He’s sitting there, bound, and a few feet away. She doesn’t even know what she would say to him - shout maybe? It wasn't like they ended on the best of terms and yes, he tried to kill her, but who here hadn’t?

_‘A lot of people here haven’t tried to kill you. But you tried to kill them.’_

Every thought tastes of black bile. She knows her teeth are bared towards him, like fresh air will rid her of the taste, but it doesn’t. 

“Catra?”  
She tears her eyes away, feeling somewhat guilty at being caught. Adora doesn’t say anything else, she’s open and she’s asking but Catra can’t give her an answer. Adora’s hand reaches up and Catra thinks it’s going to land on her shoulder but it falls, there’s hesitation like she thinks Catra’s going to run. 

And maybe she will, she certainly wants to hide. Hide from what-should-be red eyes staring down at her all but saying she’s worthless. But he doesn’t even look at her.

“Can we just get the supplies and get going?” The words are sharp with the intent to bite. Her tail snaps with it. Adora’s concerned look grows in intensity, lines appearing between her brows as they always do. She doesn’t want that look there. She wants her happy. “Sorry, I just,” she sighs, looking back at Hordak pointedly. She can’t finish the sentence because she doesn’t even know what she wants to say.

“Do you want us to keep him away from you?”  
She nods silently. She ignores the quiet voice in her head saying she needs to keep an eye on him at all times because _she doesn’t_. Not anymore.

* * *

  
Catra helps where she can, and they trust her with tasks a child could do - tasks she _had_ done as a child (packing up supplies was a common training exercise.) But they already trust her more than they probably should so she says nothing. 

There’s a lull in the action, the sorcerers and Adora seeming to be deciding what's actually needed and what they can leave here for later. She’s leaning against a tree with Melog around her legs when voices catch her ear loud enough to make her turn. 

She sees Scorpia, and oh that feels awful. She thinks she wants to go over to her, apologise properly maybe - gods there’s so many things she wants to say. But there’s too many people around her, five people to be exact. Perfuma is with her, hanging off her arm and it’s making Scorpia beam as bright as Catra’s ever seen her. 

It’s cowardly but she doesn’t move, she stays, happy in knowing Scorpia has someone who loves her as much as she ought to be loved. Gods Scorpia cared about her so much, and she treated her friendship as worthless simply because she wasn’t Adora. She’d done it with Entrapta too, she’d sent her to Beast Island for fucks sake and yet simply because Scorpia _chose_ to leave it hurt so much more. Another person that _chose_ to leave, Scorpia the last of them. It’s the kind of pain that makes her want to shatter glass or drag her claws through metal.

Melog nudges at her legs but she can’t look at them. _“It’s okay to feel bad about it.”_  
No, it’s not. “I hurt her, maybe more than anyone else.”

 _‘I don’t deserve another chance with her. I’ve already had too many.’_ She doesn’t say it out loud, doesn’t really need to. She slides down to the ground, bark biting at her back.

 _“She hurt you too by leaving.”_  
“She was right to leave.” It hurts so much to admit, even more so out loud, even if she already knew.  
_“You can make it better though, and that’s what matters.”_  
Yeah, she could. She had the time and wanted to, was more than willing to. She’d spent the rest of her life trying to make things better if she had to. And she probably would.

She sits at the base of the tree, stroking Melog’s head to keep blackening thoughts at bay. She wishes she could relax enough to doze here, but she can’t. Mostly because she’s never tried, never had the time, never been safe enough to. She closes her eyes, leaning her head back against the ridged bark that claws into the back of her head. She still keeps her ears trained for any noise at all.  
  


She forces herself not to react when heavy footsteps pad closer, she knows from the footfall pattern and the smell exactly who it is, she opens her eyes anyway. Scorpia doesn’t say anything when she sits down beside her, just smiles. It feels too easy. Catra should be crying on her knees begging forgiveness, it’s what Scorpia deserves after all she did. 

Melog looks at her, blinks like they’re asking permission, but they’ve always done as they please anyway. They cautiously walk closer to Scorpia, sitting by her crossed legs.  
“Hi little guy!” She begins stroking them immediately and her excitement makes Catra smile to herself. “What’s its name?”  
“Melog, we found them on a planet Prime deserted.”

“Oh yeah, remember hearing something about that. _‘We do not discuss Horde Prime’s weakness.’_ ” Even the dramatic way she says it doesn’t ease the discomfort talking about Prime brings her, she’s just grateful Melog doesn’t show anything. Catra brings her knees up, shielding herself against the twinge in the back of her neck as Scorpia carries on, “- Hivemind and everything. But cute name. Kitty got a kitty.”

Catra rolls her eyes, ignoring the kitty thing in its entirety, “I didn’t pick the name.”  
“Then who did?”  
_“I did.”_  
“Yeah I know you did but she doesn’t.”  
Scorpia’s eyes widen, “You can understand them?”  
“Yeah I guess it’s a cat thing. Or a magic bond thing.”  
Catra knows Scorpia is going to ‘aw’ before she actually does it, at least Scorpia is still Scorpia. 

The apology she wants to give gets caught in her throat, she doesn’t know why it’s so hard. It shouldn’t be this fucking _hard_ dammit. She’s done the hardest one already, many times over in fact. But Scorpia met her at her worst, she supposes, Scorpia never knew her in the before.

_‘And she still cared about you.’_

It makes her feel worse, and she pushes the sadness away. Or maybe it’s fear; she fears that she’ll never get to be as good as Scorpia once believed her to be. 

Scorpia’s still petting Melog, but they’re looking at her, Catra nods. If she can’t say it yet then Melog can ‘say’ it for her. It’s a poor substitute but it’s all she can give right now. Melog jumps on Scorpia, obviously purring and settling into the pincers that wrap around them. Catra’s missed Scorpia’s smile. 

“They respond to my emotions.” Scorpia lifts her head from Melog’s mane, looking as confused as she probably ought to be. “Y’know...they’re blue when I’m okay or...happy, and they’re red when I’m scared or angry. They...say the things I can’t.”  
Even if Scorpia doesn’t understand fully, it doesn’t seem to matter because the smile returns wider than ever. It’s not much but it’s at least something. 

The silence that follows (broken only my Melog’s quiet comfortable purrs) is mostly content and unstrained. Catra closes her eyes again, she’s trying to show Scorpia that she feels safe around her but maybe the message is lost. She doesn’t open her eyes to check.  
  
  


* * *

***Adora***

* * *

It’s strange, she finds, how easily Catra slotted back into her life. So wholly and completely, like she never left. And in some ways she didn’t leave, not really. She still managed to consume Adora’s thoughts easily despite the distance (and the circumstances). And yet she’s surprised everytime she sees her just...existing near her again. 

It makes her feel lighter, bigger, a weight off her shoulders she always knew she bared the burden of carrying. Every time she sees her she wants to hold her, touch her, afraid this is a dream. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time she’s gotten everything she wants. She half expects her to be fake, that she’ll reach out and Catra will pixelate and reform into Prime telling her that it’s merely a wish, that she could never be this happy.

It makes her want to call out to her, even if she doesn’t know what she’d say. Something about helping move supplies maybe? If she’d done that in the Horde, Catra would’ve laughed at her before leaping into the rafters. Adora thinks that has definitely happened at least once in the past. 

But this isn’t the past, and Catra may not be up in the shadowy rafters and watching her like she’s prey with a playful smirk on her face, but she is lounging in the lowest branches of a tree, talking with Scorpia and Melog. Even from this distance, Adora can see her eyes shining in the half-shadow.

* * *

There’s not too much equipment to carry, a small load for everyone. Sorting through supplies didn’t take nearly as long as she thought it would, so when Castaspella calls everyone over, it’s still early morning and the sky is pale blue. They should be back at Brightmoon by mid-to-late evening tomorrow, so all they have to do today is find their first abandoned camp along the way, where they’ll crash for the night. 

Seeing as they had been forced to leave it in a hurry, there should still be some supplies there. No reason for Prime to have destroyed everything if the inhabitants were gone. At least that was Adora’s reasoning, she didn’t know if it would actually stand to pass.  
  


Glimmer comes over with Micah, still talking to him excitedly about all things Brightmoon so he’d be somewhat prepared for his return. Adora’s glad they’re getting along so well, they both deserve every happiness they can find. 

“You two look like you’re having fun.”  
“Oh we are, my dad’s got the best stories about sorcery training in Mystacor.” The way she says ‘my dad’ makes her whole face light up, so much so that Adora’s mildly surprised that she isn’t sparkling with it.

“And Glimmer’s got so many stories about growing up in the Rebellion.”  
The _‘and I’m really sorry I didn’t get to see any of it’_ stays unsaid. Adora rolls her shoulders back ready and waiting to slip back into the role of leader as soon as Glimmer says the word. She deserves this time with her dad.  
“Okay well, grab as much as you want.”

Bow, Mermista and Sea Hawk all take whatever they can. Entrapta and Wrong Hordak collect bags for both themselves and original Hordak and it’s...weird to say the least, especially considering the magical restraints that still bind the latter. Catra and Melog hang back until Hordak is as far away as he can be, but when they do come closer, Catra looks content. She’s smiling, even if it’s small, and it makes Adora’s heart beat faster. 

“You’re doing a pretty good job of organising everything.”  
“Yeah, well I try.”  
“I know.” Catra is...stunning, lit up by magic in the air that reflects in cat eyes and Adora finds she can’t say anything else. “Well? What should I take?”  
“Oh, um, here.” 

She hands her a rucksack (not unlike the one Adora had taken from her a day or two ago.) She doesn’t know if Catra is purposely making as many points of contact between their hands as she possibly can, but it certainly seems that way. And of all things, that simple, probably unintentional touch makes heat rise in her cheeks. It feels so different. And it also doesn’t. And… 

Catra takes her hand away slowly, shucking on the bag. She’s not blushing like Adora is, but her eyes and lips are soft in a way she knows is just for her. Adora wants to take her hand back or kiss her or _something_. But she doesn’t do anything. The only thing she lets herself do is look at where Catra’s tail unconsciously brushes across her hand when she turns away.  
  


There are still some other groups who need to collect their share but Perfuma and Scorpia call them all over before they can.  
“We uh, have something to tell you guys,” Perfuma says, bright as she always is and yet it seems weighed down slightly.  
“We, uh. We’re not going with you. We’re going to the Fright Zone.” Scorpia looks guilty, somehow appearing small despite her frame.

“Oh,” is all Catra manages to say, but it’s more than anyone else does.  
Perfuma tries again, sounding more confident than before, “People will need help there, to recuperate and survive.”  
“I don’t think that place knows how to run without Catra.” It's joking but remains flat with implications. Scorpia looks worriedly at the girl in question, Catra is pointedly still and unresponsive.

“She did improve the Fright Zone’s efficiency by 400%.” Entrapta’s typically shrill outburst shocks Adora, making her jump slightly. Hordak has an oddly sour look on his face when he passes by Adora’s sights but he stays silent. It’s definitely for the best.

Catra grits her teeth and her voice is strained, “Thank you, Entrapta. But I don’t really think that’s what anyone really wants to hear right now.”  
“It needs a leader and Scorpia wants to take back her kingdom. And I figured I’ll be able to move the plants that are covering it so that we can get it functional again.” She has a good point, and even if it wasn’t, it’s not Adora’s place to say. 

“Well, okay then, I guess we should say goodbye,” Glimmer says. There’s some apprehension behind it mixed in with the bitter-sweetness of coming farewells. Adora knows that Glimmer can’t see the appeal of returning to the Fright Zone, especially after the last mission there, but she also knows that she will respect their decision. Adora feels this is going to be the first of several temporary goodbyes. 

“I have something to say as well.”  
She doesn’t think anyone was expecting Frosta of all people to speak, although Adora had seen her bonding with the two Princesses. Maybe she had spent more time talking to Scorpia than she had originally thought.

“I’m going back to my kingdom, and Netossa and Spinnerella are coming with me.” The other two Princesses in question each place a hand on Frosta’s shoulders. “And even though I could _totally_ fix my kingdom by myself. I think the help will be nice. Also my Kingdom is the only one with an actual prison so we’re taking Hordak.”

She’s always admired Frosta’s pure confidence in her convictions, wishes she could be more like her in that way. She’s always tried to convince herself that doubts are a good thing - they’ve certainly helped in keeping her alive so far. But she can’t help it; she hates them.  
She thinks of Catra, of all the times she’s doubted her own feelings, doubted _them_. Nothing good ever came from that. It kept them in the limbo of paralysing _‘almost’_ that threatened to tear her apart. There were - _are_ \- definitely some things she doesn’t want to doubt. 

That doesn’t matter right now, she has time to overthink about it later. She stops herself from looking for Catra despite how badly she wants the reassurance brought by her hand when she holds it. 

“I’m coming with you then as well!” Entrapta had only stopped talking to Hordak about all the magical experiments she’d begun planning when they mentioned his name. Adora doesn’t think she really understands the seriousness of his crimes, or maybe she just doesn’t care. There’s some apprehension on Netossa’s face but she stays quiet.

“Okay fine, you can come too,” Frosta says, but Adora is sure that she would’ve gone with them anyway. She’s already heard Catra’s stories about the Princess in the Fright Zone during the weeks they spent in Darla. She guesses a scientist Princess and a space clone might work well together, but what did she know? Really not much about that relationship that’s for damn sure. 

“And Wrong Hordak is also coming with us. Okay so are we leaving?” It’s sudden and with no preamble that she says it, jarring, and so very _Entrapta_. But Adora knows she’ll miss her, will miss all of them actually.  
“Don’t see why not,” Spinnerella already sounds tired.  
“Okay let’s -“  
“Wait! Scorpia take Emily.” 

Adora thinks Scorpia might cry, and she does, hugging both Entrapta and the bot in question. Adora still can’t really understand the bot, but she thinks the bleeps sound sadder than usual. 

Adora can’t help but look around to try and gauge how everyone else is feeling. Relief at the prospect of not having Hordak around is incredibly evident, in Mermista most of all, though she would never admit it. She looks towards Catra, expecting to see at least some amount of that relief in the way she holds herself. There’s none to be found.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

Scorpia is turning to go. She doesn’t have time to stew in her own guilt or find the right words to say that will make this all better. The only thing she can do is call out and walk closer:  
“Scorpia wait.” 

Her scorpion tail sways when she pauses. She looks at her, eyes wide and almost scared. But hopeful. It gives her the courage to step even closer even if her arms are still clinging to herself. Her ears are drooped and her tail is ominously still, all of it trying to convey words that still seem to evade her. Still, she tries. Because isn’t that all there is to do? 

“There’s so many things I want to say and I thought I’d have more time to do it. But I don’t, so Scorpia I just…”  
It ties her tongue, those eyes that used to look at her like she was one of the many moons in the sky now hold a foreign wariness. It hurts. She does the next best thing; she hugs Scorpia as hard as she can. Scorpia doesn’t respond immediately and it shouldn’t disappoint her as much as it does. Her ears flatten against her skull. “I’m sorry.”

The air comes rushing out of her when arms hug her back. She doesn’t cry though her eyes burn with the possibility. It doesn’t fix anything, not even close, but it’s a start. And that’s all she can do right now.

Her throat is thick when she lets go. There’s silence for all of a few seconds when Perfuma seems to take pity on her, nudging Scorpia as a reminder that they need to go.  
“Oh right. See you later...Wildcat.”

She gives a watery laugh to the nickname. “Talk soon?” Her voice is still weak.  
“Sure!” And just like that Scorpia’s beaming and fuck, she really has missed her. She holds tightly onto her elbows as she watches the two groups retreat with one last wave. 

No one knows when the next time they’ll be able to see them will be. It taints the post-war euphoria with melancholy. She doesn’t even turn around when Glimmer calls out,  
“Alright everyone, let’s go home.”

* * *

  
The walk is long, unbearably so considering Catra knows she could cut so much time off it if she were to go through the trees. But she stays on the ground with everyone else, in the two-by-two lines.

The morning passes slowly, or maybe it just feels that way. She’s aware of every step she takes on her ankle, the poison long gone but the memory of the injury remains. It’s only the second time she’s been healed by She-Ra and yet she’s already used to the feeling of not-really-there pain. It’s not a good feeling, but it’s better than the slow progress of regular healing. She doubts she’d be walking now without She-Ra’s magic. She knows Adora wouldn’t have _survived_ without it. The thought makes her whole body go cold. 

Adora had tried to stay with her at the start but was dragged ahead to lead with Glimmer. She insisted it was fine and it was. She needs to get used to seeing Adora with literally anyone else besides her. She’s so sick of the aftertaste jealousy leaves in her mouth. 

For a while Bow had been with her, and he’s a lot easier to talk to alone than she’d originally thought, she’d learnt that on Darla rather quickly. Not once does the quiet conversation become painful or bitter or strained, though it almost happens. He’s quick to change the subject whenever her ears go flat and she’s grateful. Not that she says it. 

But for the most part it’s just her and Melog walking side by side, wishing they could both be up in the trees. She listens patiently to them, their stories from Krytis are actually fascinating - the ones from before Prime anyway. 

They stop for a water break at the top of a hill, there’s a dipping valley ahead that she’s told they’ll have to cross. Apparently the first camp is over the next hill on the horizon - they’ll make it there before the last moonset easy. 

Catra overhears someone muttering about how it’ll be impossible to see where they’re going once they’re down in the valley seeing as the new growth across the planet has since ridded the landscape of any recognisable features. She knows she’ll be able to keep them on the right path, she’s always been a good tracker, but she doesn’t want to say anything. If they need help they’ll say so right? They’re Princesses, they actually ask for help. 

_‘Yes, but why in Etheria would they ask you?’_

She can’t think of any worthwhile arguments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot about Melog so many fucking times wow, I’m so sorry my child. This fic was going to be 3 chapters for 3 days but this is already up to 30000 and I'm not done yet so we're doing half-day chapters instead.  
> The second half of day 2 will be up tomorrow :)
> 
> (Also from here on out there's a lot more Catradora fluff (and tension but shhhh))


	3. Day 2 (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catradora are gay in the woods. That's it. That's literally all that happens. (Also Best Friend Squad bonding time but...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catra has a flashback and she's got a crippling fear of water full warning.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

There’s not much food so they have to ration it. Catra doesn’t eat, (not that she lets Adora know that) she’s gone without food for days before, a few hours is nothing. She doesn’t want to risk them running out of the stuff. And while hunger isn’t exactly a good feeling, she’s probably got the best shot of actually finding food in the woods. She is not above killing something for a meal as she suspects some of the others are. 

The journey into the valley is quick with the steep rocky descent, even with the added weight on her back she can jump down much further than anyone else without stumbling. Well really she’s the only one _jumping_ down at all (save for Melog) the rest clamber down on human limbs. 

At some point Glimmer gives up and just teleports them the rest of the way to the bottom and deeper into the woods. Catra doesn’t even notice until Glimmer poofs in front of her (she _doesn’t_ yelp at the suddenness of her appearance okay) and teleports her and Melog to where the rest of the group now are. It feels nice to not be forgotten. 

She still doubles over from the feeling of sudden magic and gets a small apology for it. Adora comes rushing to her side but she waves her away - she’s fine, really. She totally does not want to curl up under a blanket till the churning in her stomach dies down. 

She found out, while in space, that Glimmer’s powers got a lot stronger after she became Queen ( _“Remember when I struggled to teleport three people?”_ ) but her own exhaustion seems to be getting the better of her right now if the bags under her eyes mean anything. She says nothing, knowing that whatever she says will probably come out sounding more sarcastic than sincere if she tries to reassure her or ask if she’s okay.

* * *

  
It’s only half an hour or so into the second leg of the journey when Catra finds herself beside Adora. The wind is gentle and it makes the flyaway hair at her temples float; she looks golden. They watch ancient animals as they awaken and return to the world and make homes for themselves in the new woods. And they watch the sky when it’s visible, looking at the small spattering stars that seem to stay despite the daylight. But they don’t speak. 

Not even Melog says anything to either of them, trotting ahead to give them some almost-privacy. Somehow it’s comfortable and peaceful and easy as well as tense and just oh so confusing. It’s confusing because of how much she wants to watch the different world around them as well as the way light plays across Adora’s skin. It’s _confusing_ because she doesn’t know what to do anymore, how to act or what to say. So once again, she does nothing. 

She knows she’s staring at Adora’s hand, the way it sways comfortably at her side. There’s that stupid _want_ making suggestions in the back of her head and it just keeps getting louder. But she’s ignored and repressed and denied that voice for a long time, and she can do it again, even if that amazing, perfect, will-destroying kiss had made it gain power. It just wasn’t this loud when it had fear of rejection dragging it down.

She’s held Adora’s hand a billion times, in a million different ways, but casually has never been one of them. They’ve never just held hands for the feeling of it, even if they both wanted to. (It was still a heady feeling knowing that: Adora wanted it too, _wants_ it too.) It was too vulnerable and affectionate for the Horde, so as with most things, they hid it under guises of: _‘I want to show you something, come with me,’_ or _‘You suck at climbing, here take my hand I’ll help you.’_

But there’s no need for excuses anymore, she can take Adora’s hand whenever she wants, can wind their fingers together so tight that she might think they’ll never let go. And yet she doesn’t, she stares at her hand like the lovesick fool that she is.

That is until Adora catches her. She looks away quickly, tilting her head towards the sky like that’s the only thing she’s been looking at this whole time. There are still stars after all. 

“You used to be quicker at that.”  
“At what?” she asks because she genuinely doesn’t know.  
“At looking away.” 

Her ears flatten like they always do when she’s found out. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve let loose a small growl or biting comment to distract them from what they said. But it’s Adora, she’s the exception, always was, always will be.  
“I used to as well, look I mean. I could never really take my eyes off you for long.” It sounds guilty, like she’s admitting to a crime. Although considering their past it might as well have been, either way the confession makes her want to stop in her tracks. 

_‘I could never really take my eyes off you for long.’_

It makes her head silent, like Adora’s cut the thread of her thoughts. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling but there’s a lot of it, it’s that new feeling. The one that exploded inside her as soon as she heard _“I love you too.”_ It’s something like _‘finally’_ and it’s something like hope and something like her head shouting _‘Oh!_ That’s _what that meant.’_  
‘That’ being the looks she’d catch out the corner of her eye that made Adora seem as soft and bright as the stars now above them. All those gazes and gentle touches and smiles that in her own denial and longing she never understood, that she told herself never meant anything because hoping hurt too much. Gods they were both idiots.

She doesn’t keep the regret out of her voice, “I saw it sometimes; the looks and the smiles you probably didn’t even know you were doing.” Adora blushes - so she’s right then - and gods she has no fucking right to look that pretty. “I didn’t know what it meant though.”  
“Neither did I.” There’s the sadness of regret in her eyes that Catra’s becoming more and more familiar with, though she doesn’t want to be. 

It feels like the most they’ve spoken all day, and it might very well be. It’s also the first time they’ve acknowledged, in any verbal capacity, these old-new feelings between them. Catra swallows, she doesn’t want to do this right now, not in the exposing light of day, surrounded by people she barely knows. 

She also knows she should probably tell Adora that, she even takes a deep breath to do so but Adora says “Hey,” softly before she can get any words out. Catra meets those eyes and it’s _that_ expression, the one whose true meaning has avoided her for so long. That same hand she’d been staring at reaches towards her and waits halfway for her to take it. Catra turns and keeps her eyes forwards as she twines their hands together.  
  
  


* * *

***Adora***

* * *

The daytime moons start to set by the time they cross the final hill. The camp is there luckily, they hadn’t gotten it wrong - _she_ hadn’t gotten it wrong. It’s utterly abandoned and they should count themselves lucky that no animals have made a home there yet. Though there’s not much left to make a home out of. The majority of tents have collapsed under the weight of lush moss, the rest are either black or disintegrated from fire damage. 

When they peel back some of the lesser growth there’s two tents still intact enough to use. Adora puts up no fight when Mermista and Sea Hawk claim one, what with the tension regarding the Princess and Catra, it’s probably a good idea to give Mermista her space. There’s a small debate over who gets the other one but Glimmer gives it up to her dad and aunt, saying they ought to spend some time together as well before Castaspella inevitably goes back to Mystacor. 

That leaves the Best Friend Squad in its entirety to scavenge for shelter, it’s fun. More so than Adora would’ve thought. Her, Bow and Melog collect swathes of fabric for a makeshift tent. Catra goes back into the forest with Glimmer, Catra ripping branches off trees as tent poles while Glimmer teleports them back. A few times Melog’s glow gets just a little bluer, a little brighter. Something’s clearly making Catra happy, or whatever she’s feeling (she knows it’s a good thing so she doesn’t worry) and the unnecessary reassurance makes her feel lighter inside. 

When Catra herself appears back at the camp in a shower of sparkles she’s got a number of birds and rodents clutched in her hands. Adora still runs over to her and helps her up from the ground where she’d fallen, she knows just exactly how awful teleportation feels at first. That must’ve been what got Melog acting like they were, probably Catra’s own excitement or pride or something similar. 

She shouldn’t be surprised that Catra is an excellent hunter, especially given how many times she herself has been the prey. There are still supplies here, food and water and bedrolls but Adora will make a point of only eating the food Catra caught when it’s time for the evening meal. She doesn’t know why it feels important to do that, maybe because of the way Catra’s eyes sparkle when she tells her so.

“We found a waterfall not too far, if anyone wants to get clean,” Glimmer says once they’ve assembled the ‘tent’ they’ll be sleeping in.

* * *

  
One by one the rest of the group do indeed go for showers in the waterfall after Glimmer gives them the general direction. It’s not all the way dark yet, still several moons to set, but the magic illuminates the air enough that Adora doesn’t worry about anyone getting lost, the light from the spell in the grass will act as a beacon anyway. 

There’s not much else to do than sit and talk, everyone is still tired after all. Adora doubts she’ll have another good night's sleep, last night was pretty rare in that respect. She chalks that up to pure exhaustion and Catra’s comforting warmth. 

There were many reasons she and Catra had shared a bed throughout the majority of their lives, one of those reasons was that having other people there helped. But tonight she’s scared of what she might see in her dreams, poison and pain providing fresh food for her unconscious thoughts. 

Bow and Glimmer sit across from Catra and Melog and herself, the spell’s magic in between them tickling their feet. Bow’s the first one to break the comfortable silence, “Crazy few days huh?”  
“Yeah I guess so,” she responds, more distant than she intended to.

Glimmer is annoyed by her flippancy unsurprisingly. “Adora, you ‘guess so’? We defeated a galactic space emperor! We ended a war that’s gone on our whole lives, I…” Whatever Glimmer wants to say is cut off by her own stunned stuttering.  
“I don’t think everything’s really set in yet.”

She sees Catra shake her head slightly (probably unconsciously) beside her, matching disbelief obvious. It’s reassuring; she gets it, of course she does.

Bow holds none of Glimmer’s annoyance at her, though. “Well I suppose that’s fair.”  
“Should we talk about it? Do you even want to talk about it?” Glimmer’s annoyance fades quickly to intrigue. 

Oh that’s right, neither of them, or anyone for that matter, actually knew what happened in the Heart. And her and Catra don’t know what happened on the surface, but it’s not exactly equal; she could ask any of their friends what happened with the clone army. The Heart, however, it’s their secret and Adora doesn’t really know how to feel about it. And then she’s looking at Catra, always looking at Catra, and she’s meeting her eyes. It doesn’t give her an answer but it does make her feel better.

“I don’t know. It’s just…” she trails off only for Catra to say; “A lot.” And yeah, that pretty much sums it up.  
“That’s understandable, but know that you can talk to us.”  
“We know Bow,” her voice is soft with appreciation. She’s so damn lucky to have such good friends. 

“And we do want to know what happened after we left okay. We _will _find out the truth eventually.”  
“But it’s important that you do it whenever you’re ready.”  
"Yeah, of course, I meant that."  
"I know you did."__

____

She's mildly stunned by the soft way Glimmer and Bow are looking at each other, long enough for Catra to say, “Thanks,” for her. It makes her smile slightly.

____

“It’s just,” she sighs, turning to Catra, “I think we need to talk about it first.” There’s apprehension there, she knows Catra still isn’t great at talking about these things. And neither is she if she’s being honest.  
“Yeah, you’re right...” Catra trails off and Adora swears there’s a small stain of pink in her cheeks, even if it’s hard to tell. But her ears go soft and Melog perks up next to her so it kind of gives it away. And she just looks so pretty in the dimming light.

____

And then she’s thinking about kissing Catra again, and while the guilt that used to come along with thoughts of loving her is gone, that new kind of fear remains. But there’s also some alien rush that comes when she realises she could. She could just kiss her, right here, and it wouldn’t tear them apart. 

____

Because Catra _loves her_. She’s _in love_ with her. And it’s not just her feeling this way, all those years in the Horde telling herself she felt _more_ with Catra because they were _best_ friends, and then the years in the Rebellion after she figured it out. And maybe Catra would push her away but it would be because of circumstances not because she didn’t feel the same way. 

____

There’s too much in her head; this is why they need to talk. Alone. Because it’s going to be uncomfortable and vulnerable and right now Catra is the only one she can feel like that with. The vulnerability she’s going to feel will be Catra’s, hers to own and to hold. 

____

Catra turns her head away and it breaks Adora’s thought-addled haze. She knows she was staring at her lips. And if Catra’s small smirk means anything then she probably saw too.

____

Bow and Glimmer stay silent, which she’s thankful for, but she doesn’t miss the look they share. She wishes she had because now she’s just feeling even more flustered than before. She feels like they know, and they probably do, at least to some extent. They know how devastated she was when Catra left after the failsafe, know how she clung to her the whole of yesterday. They spent weeks in space together and had to watch her dodge awkwardly around her own feelings. (Which she probably should’ve told at least one of them about at some point but it’s a bit late for that.)

____

The silence feels stifling with all the things she can’t discuss yet and she can’t stop herself from breaking it. “What are we gonna do when we get back to Brightmoon?”  
“Sleep hopefully.” Glimmer plants her face in the crook of Bow’s neck and it muffles the end of her sentence.  
“Other than that.”  
“Well that part’s less fun -”  
“- Let me guess, war reparations,” Bow cuts it, knocking Glimmer gently from her place on his shoulder. She simply gets closer to lean against him properly. Again it’s nothing new, but it feels different. But they’re happy so that’s all that matters.  
“Ugh, there’s going to be sooo many meetings.”

____

The casualness of the situation makes Adora smile and she leans back against the rock behind her. She checks a glance at Catra just to see how she’s doing but it’s not needed, she’s smiling as well, though it’s more like a small twitch of her lips. The next patch of silence is much better, comfortable and friendly and is not full of things heavily implied that might make her blush like an idiot. 

____

She’s gazing at the stars high above them when Catra’s tail brushes her wrist. It doesn’t seem intentional, doesn’t even look like Catra knows she’s done it since she’s looking at the sky too. She grazes Catra’s tail with a single finger, just to see how she’ll react. Her ears prick up and she looks over but she’s not annoyed like she would’ve been if she’d done it as teenagers. No in fact the tail curls lightly around Adora’s wrist as she looks away again. It’s so small and yet it’s able to stun her still.  
  
  


____

Across the way Glimmer starts falling asleep against Bow, body slacking with tiredness.  
Bow breaks the quiet, nudging Glimmer gently back awake, “Hey, thought you said you wanted to shower.”  
While still recovering from the edge of sleep, Glimmer does seem to perk up a bit at the thought. “We don’t have any towels do we?”  
“Nope.” It’s the first thing Catra’s said in a long while.  
“Fine, be back soon.” She kisses Bow on the forehead before disappearing. Now _that’s_ new. And Bow is blushing bright red, he doesn’t say anything but that almost says even more.

____

While they wait Catra asks Bow if he wants someone to cuddle now that Glimmer’s gone, ( _“What’s wrong? You cold?”_ ) it’s sarcastic but there’s well-meaning behind it, Bow knows that. He responds in such a typically _Bow _way by just saying yes earnestly. Catra knocks Melog with her elbow and they happily walk over and snuggle down, head in his lap. Bow’s got his big _‘that’s so cute’_ eyes on, utterly enamoured with the mass of space cat purring at his side.__

____

  
True to her word, Glimmer doesn’t take long before popping back next to her spell, hair dripping water onto the grass. Catra (and Melog) startle at her entrance and both Adora and Bow have to tamper down a laugh. Catra seems to know though (they’re not exactly subtle) and rolls her eyes to shrug off her embarrassment.

____

* * *

__

***Catra***

* * *

____

  
Glimmer calls out, “Anyone else want to go shower?” loud enough for the whole camp to hear. Catra’s suddenly incredibly aware of the grit and dirt and sweat matted into her fur all over her body. She hasn’t had a moment alone to clean herself and fuck if she’s going to do that in front of anyone else. She doubts it would even do anything at this point, she might actually have to get in some water to get clean again. Her fur turns all bristly with the fact. Melog tries to get her attention and she just pats their head to appease them. 

____

“I’ll go,” Adora responds when no one else does, breaking her from her own dreading musings. 

____

They don’t have towels but Adora’s used to that, having usually given up her own to Catra. Even in the Horde she hated water and with so much fur and hair, a single towel got uselessly wet incredibly quickly. Adora had picked up on it early in their teen years and took to pulling on her clothes over her still-wet body without complaint. Stupid, sweet, selfless Adora. She should probably thank her for that at some point. 

____

Adora turns back to her, taking off her jacket with the intention to leave it here. She must see the fur standing up all over her because her face quickly morphs to concern.  
“Hey, you okay?”  
“Just, my fur’s all disgusting and I should shower but...y’know, water.”  
“Would it make it better if I was with you?”

____

There’s nothing on Adora’s face to give any indication that she knows the implications of them showering together alone in the woods. If Adora’s ignoring it then so is she. And she actually considers it as an option, _will_ it help if someone else is there? Maybe. 

____

“I guess we can try. But some clothes stay on and Melog comes with us.”  
“Sure.” Adora’s face is just so open and the hand held out to her is so willing. She barely hesitates before taking it.  
“Come on,” she says to Melog, who stands and follows them eagerly. 

____

She expects to see disappointment on Bow’s face at losing his cuddle companion, but all she sees is this soft look. It’s sweet enough to make a kid's tooth ache. But then Glimmer’s rejoining him and he’s distracted by her body in his arms. They’re cute together, she’ll give them that. She’ll have to ask how long they’ve been together at some point. 

____

No one says anything as they head away from the camp hand in hand for the second night in a row.

____

* * *

____

  
There’s no breeze in the forest, new trees and warped landscape providing enough cover. Still, Catra shivers in her underclothes just looking at the water. Melog hasn’t left her side, waits patiently on the riverbank with her while Adora undresses. 

____

She already promised herself she wouldn’t stare and she _won’t_. In some weird way it’s an incentive for her to focus on the anxiety the water stirs up. Melog hates water just about as much as she does. Unless it’s just her fear making them respond that way? She doesn’t know and doesn’t ask seeing as she can’t do anything to change it. 

____

If she hadn’t been listening so closely she knows she would have jumped a foot in the air when Adora puts a hand on her shoulder. As it is, her ears were (are) angled towards Adora anyway and her fur stays flat through sheer force of will. 

____

“Catra, it’s going to be okay. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”  
She makes herself ignore the pounding of her own heart at the words, remembering how many times she’s imagined Adora saying just that while she sat in an empty room and bit back tears. 

____

She forces herself to meet evening-grey eyes that are only going to get darker the more time they spend out here, everything about her face is soft and gentle and home. She wants to believe her. She doesn’t. Her blood pulses quick through her veins with fear. 

____

Adora’s hand slides down her bare arm to hold her hand, she starts leading them the last few steps to the waterfall. Catra feels her ears flatten against her head at the first lap of water between her toes. The sudden cold on her healed ankle makes it ache sharply. Her free hand reaches for Adora’s other one on instinct, she figures the touch must be helping. She’s torn between looking at her feet to see where she’s going and Adora’s face to keep her calm.

____

“You doing okay?”  
She nods, lips stubbornly pursed. She looks back at Melog still on the riverbank, their mane is red but rounded, so that’s good. The water doesn’t come any higher than their knees and she’s grateful for it. Having this much submerged is already working to keep her adrenaline racing. 

____

“Okay we’re going to go under?”  
She knows it’s not meant to sound like a question but her insides go all squirmy in knowing how concerned Adora is for her. If she weren’t so terrified she would loosen her grip on Adora’s hands, make this moment a bit softer. But it’s not soft, it’s sharp and her claws are digging into the sides of Adora’s hands, might even be drawing blood by the way she winces. She’s hurting her again. The realisation makes everything feel like ice. She rips her hands back before she can go under the water stream with her. 

____

“Catra?”  
“Are you bleeding?” The tone is sharp and demanding and it doesn’t matter till Adora answers the damn question. She could just know by looking but she can’t open her eyes.  
“No, I’m fine Catra. I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me.”  
“You sure?”  
“Hey, look,” Adora turns her hands over for her - there’s deep indents but no skin is actually broken. She sighs in relief. 

____

The river splashes higher up her leg than before and suddenly she’s jumping back into Adora, only careful enough to keep her claws off her. Apparently the contact does help. She’s grateful Adora had left the water stream to show Catra her hands. Said hands that land carefully on the backs of her shoulders, not pushing away but not bringing her closer. She knows she probably crossed a line by being this close but it wasn’t like it was a conscious choice. 

____

“Breathe, Catra.”  
Adora’s cold against her, she presses closer to her anyway, enough so that she can smell her through the water on her skin. Adora’s arms around her mean she can’t move her own, though that’s probably a good thing given how far out her claws are. She stares at the droplets pooled in Adora’s collarbone, then at the water flowing ahead of them. She’s had enough of water, even the warmth of Adora - a vulnerable and exposed Adora - holding her isn’t enough for her to want to stay here a second longer than she has to. 

____

“Can we just get this over with?”  
“Catra…?”  
“Please Adora.”  
The blonde goes silent, still shocked wherever Catra uses the word apparently. Adora doesn’t say anything as she guides the both of them under the water. Catra starts scrubbing furiously at the worst parts of her fur, ignoring the heavy gaze she feels. 

____

She hates the water for preventing her from savouring this, hates how it blurs her vision of the woods around them, hates how heavy it makes her feel as it soaks through fur. And maybe she scrubs her skin raw with the need for it to just _be over_ but it doesn’t matter because she’s out the water sooner rather than later. 

____

She’s cold on the riverbank in still air and shaking the water off her fur doesn’t help at all. At least with shorter hair she’ll dry faster. She sits by the same tree as earlier and Melog reassures her that she’s fine, tells her to breathe. She ignores the worried looks Adora sends her way through the water, focusing instead on the creatures in the trees.  
  


____

“Didn’t take my hair out. That was dumb.”  
Catra turns towards the sound fast enough to see Adora let down her wet hair and wring it out into the river. Any joking _“Well I could’ve told you that,”_ type comment in regards to the ‘dumb’ thing is lost immediately. 

____

As much as Catra hates water, seeing Adora walking towards her with her golden hair dripping wet over bare shoulders is enough to make her forget about it. Makes her forget most things actually. It’s definitely not the first time she’s seen this sight, it’s been branded into her mind since her early teens. But somehow the simple thing of them being alone, not in a grungy locker room, makes air evade her. 

____

“Y'know I was expecting you to call me a dumbass.”  
It takes longer than expected for her to actually speak. Adora really never knew what she did to her, did she? “Dumbass.”  
“Well now it doesn’t count.”  
“Yes it does, shut up.”

____

Adora’s got her arms crossed, looking at her with that smug smile she uses whenever she’s teasing her. She’s missed it. But she’s not about to let her know that. “Let’s just get dressed so we can go back to camp.”  
“I’m not the one who’s been sitting there-”  
“- I was trying to air dry a _whole body’s worth of fur_ , y'know the one I’d normally need two towels for.” Adora smiles fondly at the memory. “Thanks for that by the way.”  
Adora shrugs. “You needed it more than I did.”

____

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she doesn’t say anything. Adora’s just smiling softly at her, looking down at her where she stands and Catra sits. If anything does come out of her mouth she knows it will be in an effort to deflect from whatever is happening right now, and she needs to learn to not do that. Maybe somewhere along the line she’ll be able to tell Adora she’s beautiful whenever she thinks it (which is more than she cares to admit.) She hopes so, she deserves to know.

____

Adora’s rubbing at the back of her neck and she really is just too damn cute. “So, uh, I know you said we should go back but do you want to stay?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Stay here for a while and dry off?”  
The drier she can get the better. “Sure.”  
“Can I?” She gestures at the space beside her and Catra rolls her eyes. 

____

_‘Of course you can, idiot.’_

____

She offers a hand out and drags Adora down when she takes it, it makes Adora giggle. And fuck if that isn’t one of the best sounds in the world. She doesn’t let go and neither does Adora, she interlocks their fingers and keeps them there. 

____

Melog starts purring when she does and it makes Adora smile. It grows wider when Catra leans against her, head on her shoulder. They’ve done this before so it feels safe, doesn’t make her hesitate too much, even if the context is different. Her tail throws itself over Adora’s legs and she doesn’t care, leaning into the warm body beside her knowing full well the fur that’s pressed down by the contact won’t dry. Because they’re alone and she’s happy to indulge in these small fantasies for now.  
  
  


____

* * *

____

Adora seems utterly content to ignore the looks thrown their way when they walk back to camp, or maybe she’s just oblivious to them. Either way they’ve been gone longer than anyone else and Catra definitely does not miss said looks - after all she’s seen disdain in the eyes of every superior she’s ever had, it’s not new. 

____

This though, is different; slightly judgemental, mostly confused. The possessive, selfish part of her revels in it, the nicer part wants to feel embarrassed. Not that either of them have anything to be embarrassed about. What actually happens is that she glares if the look stays longer than she likes, though it doesn’t work on Bow and Glimmer. Still, they seem to know to stay quiet.  
  


____

Dinner is surprisingly bearable. She wasn’t expecting it to be so, especially with the water Princess - Mermista - sitting within her vicinity. There’s a few bored comments but all of what she says sounds that way so she doesn’t think much of it. Catra herself stays silent the whole time, even when Adora looks over to see why, she just waves her off. True to what Adora said earlier, she only eats the food Catra caught. She doesn’t know exactly why it makes her so happy, she decides not to over analyse it. (At least not right now.)

____

The moons have set overhead, the last remnants of daylight slip over the lip of the hills around them while they finish the meal. Mermista and the flamboyant pirate - Sea Hawk - make moves to go right back to their tent. It weighs on her. More than she likes. Mermista isn’t someone she’s ever had a full conversation with and yet she may have taken the most from her. Her whole kingdom was lost because of her. 

____

It makes her want to hide, every reminder of her own evil that’s thrown in her face does. But she needs to deal with this, Adora was right, she shouldn’t hide from the people she hurt. She can’t if she’s ever going to make this better. And besides, she’s faced worse, faced _Adora_ and this can’t be any more terrifying than that. 

____

_“You should go talk to her,”_ Melog mews quietly from her feet.  
“Yeah, I know, I know,” she mutters in response.

____

She gets up from the rock she’s sitting on swiftly, movements lacking their usual fluidity, she knows if she over thinks this, she’ll flake out. There’s barely enough conviction for her to do this in the first place and every second wasted is drive lost. Melog follows as a reassuring presence at her feet - at least she’s not alone. She only lets the couple know she’s following them once the rest of the camp is mostly out of sight.

____

“Hey,” she calls out.  
She sees the way the Princess goes still with shock she tries to hide with disinterest when she turns. Catra digs the claws on her feet into the ground and she watches Melog out the corner of her eye, willing them to remain calm blue.

____

“What do you want?” It’s not as accusatory as it could be, she takes that as a good sign.  
“I - I want to help rebuild Salineas when we get back. I know sorry isn’t going to fix anything and it probably won’t mean anything to you, but I’ll say it anyway - I am sorry for my part in you losing your home. None of those people deserved what I did. You didn’t deserve what I did. And I know, I _know_ what I did, I know what I ordered…” the sound she’s making washes away and not even Melog’s worried yowl brings her back.

____

She knows it's not real, she _knows_. But it was, the burning cities that flash before her eyes - she's seen them. She made it happen. She sees bodies in the water and smoke in the air. Reality flits long the edges of memory but it’s not enough to stop it. Hands come up to her face, she’s pretty sure they’re her own, they press into her eyes as if that’ll stop the memory. It never has before, and it doesn’t now. She can’t force her claws in and she hopes to the gods she hasn’t cut herself. She can’t see that heartbroken look on Adora’s face again if she bleeds.

____

But her hands fall, shaking back down to her sides. Her vision sharpens and she’s back, breathing uneven. Her hands clench into fists. It feels awful. It feels like an excuse. It feels like weakness and cowardice.

____

Mermista and Sea Hawk are still looking at her, some concern leaking into the Princess’ eyes. It’s genuine and somehow that makes it worse. 

____

_‘Damn the good guys. Damn them all.’_

____

She doesn’t want to run, but it’s all she’s ever really been good at. She ran from Shadow Weaver, ran from her feelings, ran from consequences. Really anything she could. She needs to get away from the eyes she feels on her, filled with concern she doesn’t deserve. 

____

“I -“ she doesn’t bother to finish. Turning and leaving, Melog glowing red and following her all the way. She’s not running, merely stalking along the ground quickly till the trees can harbour her. Her tail keeps snapping through the air as she goes. She jumps, claws sinking into and scratching along bark till she’s high enough. She’s not far, can see the glow of the spell inlaid in grass brightly out the corner of her eyes. 

____

The secluded dark space is comforting. She sits in it for she doesn’t know how long, hidden in the trees. She can’t bring herself to leave, not while fire and smoke continues to play with her thoughts. She can’t risk seeing the Princess again, not tonight.  
  


____

“Am I gonna have to climb up there with you or are you going to come down?”  
Adora’s voice startles her, though neither she nor Melog let it show. She looks down from her branch, she knows if she waits long enough Adora will try and climb. She considers it, knowing how badly she’ll fail, and how much it’ll make both of them laugh. But she doesn’t feel like laughing right now. 

____

She feels her tail flick and she sighs, “No, I’ll come down.”

____

Melog jumps first and she follows suit, landing face to face with Adora, close enough to touch. It wouldn’t even take a step. And it doesn’t. Before she’s even aware of it she’s wrapping her arms around her waist. Adora doesn’t hesitate to hug her back, not even questioning it. There’s arms around her shoulders and a hand pressing into the exposed skin there. She tries not to feel guilty about how badly she needs Adora’s touch grounding her right now. 

____

“I didn’t see much but -“  
“- Adora I tried, I promise I tried.”  
Adora leans their temples together, her breath playing with the fur on her neck as she speaks, “I know you did and I’m so proud of you for it.”

____

She hates how much those words make her insides flutter, how it makes her lean her head against her more and sink into the hold. She wants Adora to be proud of her. Stupid, amazing Adora making her feel like she’s worth something.

____

The hand on her back seems to want to move but it doesn’t, fingers staying twitching against her spine. Catra tucks her head in just a little more before whispering, “Do it.” 

____

It doesn’t even matter what ‘it’ is, if Adora wants it she’ll probably give it. And still Adora hesitates, because she’s sweet and as unsure as she is. But the hand moves upwards, landing gently on her head and starting to stroke through the short hair there, nails daring to scratch behind her ears once then twice. She almost swats it away on instinct but forces herself to stay still and relax back into it. 

____

She’s never let anyone know how much she likes - craves - the feeling, not even Adora. It was always too exposing, too vulnerable, felt too far from human. But being this vulnerable right now won’t hurt her. She’s safe, here, in Adora’s arms after all this time. The thought finally loosens her inhibitions enough for a purr to start. She’s proud of herself for not swallowing it down with a dismissive cough.

____

“Oh so you _do_ like this. Knew you were lying.”  
“Yeah, yeah, so maybe I was lying. What’s it to you Princess?”

____

* * *

__

____

***Adora***

* * *

____

“Isn’t it weird, you calling me Princess after everything?”  
“Well...Think of it as me making peace with the idea.”

____

She doesn’t like moving Catra from her arms but she needs to know how genuine what she’s saying is. She places her hands on Catra’s shoulders; it feels too dangerous to leave them where they were. She misses the warmth of Catra’s arms around her waist more than she ever really thought possible but she forces it away. 

____

Catra’s smile isn’t pained or malicious or rage-inducing, but it’s not happy either, not completely. But gods she’s _trying_. After all this time she’s trying. And every time she does Adora wants to hold her so tightly they can’t breathe. Maybe one day she’ll give in.

____

She covers it up with the easy playfulness she’s missed so much, “You sure it’s not because you want to tease me about it?”  
“Well that too. The tiara was ridiculous, you have to admit it.” Adora rolls her eyes way more dramatically than needed just because it gets Catra to start smirking. “Why, you complaining Princess?”

____

Adora lets her hands drop down to her sides. How does she manage to make it sound insulting and endearing at the same time? “No. Although I might if you keep saying it like that.”  
The smirk gets wider. “Like what?”  
_There’s_ the insufferable Catra she knows and loves. “You know ‘like what’.”  
“No I don’t, you’re going to have to elaborate on that...Princess.”  
“Ugh, you’re awful.”  
“And yet…”  
“And yet…”

____

Their voices are both soft with these feelings between them. The friendship she’s had her whole life, missed every second she didn’t have it, and the confusing romantic ones on top of it she has yet to be acquainted with in a way that won’t break her heart. Something sharp tugs at her chest, plays her heartstrings like an instrument. It plays a quiet song of want, made louder by the way Catra’s eyes gleam in distanced fire-light and how her ears soften without her knowing. 

____

She listens. She gives in. It feels selfish, she does it anyway, pressing her lips to Catra’s cheek like she’s always wanted to. Compared to the day previous? It’s nothing. Compared to today? It's almost overwhelming.

____

She’s scared to pull back and see what she finds, but she can’t stay where she is either. Those same eyes, blue and yellow like fire and water, stare at her. And Adora can’t read anything, her ears have perked back up and aren’t swivelled back, usually a good sign. And then she smiles and oh, okay, Adora can breathe again.

____

“What was that for?”  


____

_'Because I only just realised today how badly I've wanted to kiss you my whole life, even like this.'_

____

“I don’t know."  
Catra doesn’t press. Her eyes, pupils wide in the dark, flick over to the half-hidden gathering, as do her ears. Adora can’t hear what happened but it’s obviously something. She turns to see Micah and Castaspella leaving. 

____

“We should go claim the good spot on the ground before Sparkles and Arrow Boy take it.”  
“Catra we have bed rolls.”  
“We’re still sleeping on the ground. Unless you Princesses just carry full beds around and didn’t think to mention it.”  
“Nah, although you might be able to convince Glimmer to teleport a bed here.”  
“Don’t tempt me,” Catra knocks her shoulder as she passes, “Come on Princess time for bed.”

____

She doubts Catra’s gonna let up on the nickname anytime soon, so if Catra’s making her peace with it then she supposes she'll have to as well. She smiles fondly at Catra and Melog’s retreating forms before following.

____

* * *

____

Catra makes quick work, as she said, of claiming them the ‘better’ spot on the ground. It really makes no difference to Adora, she’s slept on nothing but dirt and grass before and it was fine (she did it last night.) But her back will probably protest doing that a second night in a row so she just goes along with it, settling down close (but not close enough) to Catra and Melog. Bow and Glimmer join them under their makeshift tent, and in some way Adora misses the stars above them. She settles for looking at them over the peak of the hills in the close distance as she props herself up on both her elbows. 

____

The group talks quietly amongst themselves for a while, even Catra joins in. It’s easy and nice and barely strained. She doesn’t want it to end, not really, but one by one they each start yawning. ( _“So on top of having the cutest sneeze, you also have the cutest yawn in the world?” “Shut the fuck up Arrow Boy.”_ ) Still, it takes them just a little longer to decide on actually attempting sleep. 

____

“Night guys,” Bow says, voice low with drowsiness.  
There’s a small chorus of responding _“Night,”_ s before Glimmer and Bow settle down into their bedrolls. 

____

She doesn’t mean to stare at how close Glimmer and Bow are, at the way they instinctively reach for each other without worrying, but she does. As soon as Bow starts snoring she looks away, her thoughts snapping back to the present. She turns her head back to a regular position, glaring at the end of her own bedroll like it’s a threat. Melog’s glow out the corner of her right eye flares a little brighter. Catra’s got her eyes open and she’s sitting up when she looks over. 

____

“How long have they been together?”  
“Oh, they’re not together, not like that.”

____

Catra seems to debate her next words for a moment, head tilted to the side slightly and looking at the sleeping couple. She really is cute, at least now Adora has someone who shares the sentiment.  
“You think they want to be?”

____

“Yeah. But they’ve been best friends their whole lives, it’s -” She cuts herself off, returning to looking at the fabric she’s sitting on, it might hit a little bit too close to home.  
“It’s hard to talk about. Think we know that better than anyone.”

____

She tries not to let the shock of Catra broaching that subject show on her face. It must not work because Catra huffs beside her, it quickly turns into a sigh. She risks another look and this time Catra’s got her ears down and her knees brought up to her chest. She doesn’t look scared, but it’s not far off. She’s once again reminded of that voice in her head telling her she wants to hold Catra, touch her, or even just be close to her at all. She’s too far away for any of it. She hates it, this unnecessary space between them. She wants -

____

“Hey, bring it over here.” It comes out before she can stop it. 

____

Catra’s ears go lopsided with her confusion - one up, one down - and it’s one of the cutest things she’s ever seen, makes Adora’s insides feel like they’re melting. Catra’s eyes flick to her bedding in question and she only has to nod and pat the bare ground beside her. Catra comes closer, slinking along the floor like she used to do in stealth simulations. She was always good at those. 

____

She brings the mat (and Melog who follows close behind) with her but her eyes won’t release Adora’s. She holds the gaze until she settles as close to her as possible, not an inch between the mats on the floor. Despite this, the gap between their bodies feels huge and Adora doesn’t know if she can reach that far, not right now, not in front of people. Even if those people are asleep. 

____

The familiarity of it tastes bittersweet in her mouth, nights sitting together on one of their beds whispering about whatever, when all she wanted to do was bridge the gap between them. Everything felt so different in the dark, it still does. Except now she knows what it’s like for Catra to hold her without any looming threats, knows how she tastes, how her hands feel when she’s holding her.

____

She opens her mouth to say something but it ends up fruitless, only a short exhale escaping. But Catra doesn’t look disappointed, she’s curled around her own knees again, head resting on them. There’s something so undeniably soft about her, and Adora knows if she said it out loud it would make her turn away. She doesn’t want that. She stays quiet. 

____

“Now what?” Catra asks it quietly, wary of the hush of night time. 

____

It’s a good question. One Adora doesn’t know the answer to. She looks around to the bodies trying to sleep around them, Glimmer shifts with enough energy to show that she’s close to waking. She doesn’t want to prevent them from sleeping by talking with Catra, even if right now that’s all she wants to do. She wants to talk with her well into the next morning about meaningless things. 

____

They’d had exactly three nights like that when they were in space and Adora is already addicted to the calmness it brought her, the easiness of it. But tonight is not going to be one of those nights, she silently mourns the fact. 

____

Melog settles down without a sound, the same position as the night previous but Catra doesn’t move. Her eyes are blown wide in the darkness and that _‘soft’_ ricochets through her thoughts again. In her head, Adora has the courage to lift Catra’s head by her chin and kiss her. But she’s spent too long feeling guilt at such selfish wishes, too many nights in Brightmoon holding her own arms and holding back tears for something she never got to have. 

____

She lies down, using her jacket as a pillow, all while keeping Catra in her sights the whole time, like she’s afraid if she closes her eyes for too long it’ll be one of those nights; that she’ll be alone in a room that doesn’t feel exactly hers again. 

____

“Lie down with me?” The sound is pathetically weak but Catra doesn’t comment. She uncurls slowly, flicking her tail back where it had inched towards Adora unconsciously.

____

Catra lies on her back as well, staring up at the patchwork of material overhead. Catra’s hands sit upon each other on her stomach, claws extended and Adora thinks they might be digging in slightly, though she doesn’t know why. She feels Catra’s heat bleed through the space between them, taunting Adora with it, she knows what it feels like to fall asleep with Catra’s arms around her now. She turns onto her right side, it aches dimly with poison that’s not there anymore. She ought to ask how Catra’s ankle is, she must be feeling it as well, what with walking on it all day. It seems like a safe enough thing to talk about. 

____

“How’s your ankle?”  
“It’s fine.” The voice is small. She’s lying.  
“Uh huh.”  
“What? It is.”

____

She hums dismissively and watches as Catra’s ear flicks. There’s no use pushing her on this, even now Catra doesn’t want to be weak around her. She understands it, doesn’t mean she has to like it. It makes her heart ache, but she reminds herself that this is the start not the end. There’s time, they’ve finally got time to figure this out together. She’ll be patient with her. 

____

Catra turns onto her front, still facing her, arm a makeshift pillow, the other has her claws pricking into the bedding. “Okay...maybe it aches a little.” She sounds ashamed of it, she stares intensely at anything but Adora. 

____

It knocks the breath right out of her, is this how it’s always going to be? Everytime she sees Catra _trying_ she gets so overwhelmed with _‘really?’_ and _‘finally’_ and...and _‘I love you’_ that she can’t breathe. She knows she’s smiling in the darkness. But Catra doesn’t see, her eyes are closed and it seems like maybe she’s waiting for something. Adora doesn’t know what. 

____

“This is new,” she says eventually. Split eyes snap open, glowing like jewels in the dark. Catra shuffles deeper into the mattress and her own arm, and there’s something akin to a smile playing on her lips.  
“Only a little,” her voice is sleep soft and it sounds like Adora’s best memories from their childhood. 

____

She wants to say that she's always wanted to fall asleep looking at her face-to-face, and not from opposite ends of the bed. Whisper that maybe she would give up sleep altogether to be able to look at her like this forever. If she had enough courage she’d confess to how many nights she’s spent lying on her back just staring at the bunk above praying that Catra would hop down and crawl into her arms. There really are so many things she should say, and yet none of them leave her lips. 

____

Instead she reaches a hand out in the dark, leaves it like an offering between them. She surprises herself with the action. Some part of her tells her to expect it to be rejected, that there are different rules here and she’s got to figure out how to play first. But Catra takes her hand, lies it on top of hers like a blanket. It might not be the same as last night, she’s not got the steady rumble of Catra’s purr spreading through her like ocean waves, but it’s what she has right now. And she’ll take anything Catra will give her.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to make Catra a little feral okay? Sue me. Catra in season 2 was peak chaos and I miss her every goddamn day. Also made a comprimise - Adora never thought about kissing Catra in the lips _but_ she thought about kissing her face because that's innocent enough right? She can justify wanting to do that with a best friend.


	4. Day 3 (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra tries to get used to the idea of even _getting_ to Brightmoon.  
> Adora has found honesty is a weapon she shouldn't wield carelessly.  
> They're both just trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I really toned down Sea Hawk’s general personality for the sake of storytelling here so sorry if you really like him.)  
> *Jazz hands* The girls are _trying_.  
> Feat. Adora being a little oblivious (and we love her for it)

* * *

***Adora***

* * *

For the second day in a row she wakes up to Catra’s face turned towards her. It’s dangerously close to becoming a habit; addiction might be a better word for it. There’s no sight she can even comprehend being better than this, not now, maybe not ever. 

They’d gotten closer in the night, even if their hands had separated. She’s on her back and Catra’s on her front meaning the limited space between them is all but gone. She can feel Catra’s heat that’s since soaked into the fabric they’re lying on. She also realises rather suddenly that Melog is curled up on her other side, head on her stomach.

The night had brought violent visions as expected, the stain of which are already leaving her in the morning light. She’s just thankful it wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting. She’ll have to ask Catra if she woke her up since she knows she can start thrashing in her sleep. But until she wakes, Adora’s content to stroke Melog’s head, sinking into the purr that starts under her hands. 

She looks over her shoulder to see the rest of the camp still seemingly asleep, everything is just so unbelievably calm. Ironically the silence makes her pulse quicken with anxiety, and as much as she tries to breathe through it enough for the feeling to ebb away, it doesn’t. It stays humming quietly, she knows it will till anyone else wakes up. She doesn’t want to feel this, she never does, but this too-alertness is just another consequence of her upbringing. And she has yet to be able to escape it. But the war’s over (she wonders if she’ll be counting the days until that sentiment feels real) and maybe silence won’t make her feel this way forever.

She’s happy to let Melog distract her as they shake sleep off slowly, she doesn’t know if it means Catra will wake soon as well, but she hopes so. Then again, maybe she doesn’t; Catra looks so peaceful when she’s asleep, a special kind of beautiful (as opposed to her regular beautiful) if she’s not having bad dreams. 

Today she can see all of Catra’s freckles from her position, stark black markings against the soft thin fur on her face, and finds that she remembers every single one. They’re like a starmap on her cheeks, spilling down her shoulders. Even as Catra scrunches her eyes before blinking them open, she doesn’t look away. She doesn’t say anything either, waiting for Catra to comment as she undoubtedly will. 

“Were you watching me sleep?”  
_‘There it is,’_ it makes her smile, and she forgets entirely about the churning in her stomach. “Maybe.”  
Catra mutters, “Creep,” into her arm as she buries back into it but Adora can see the twitch of her lips. 

“Oh like you didn’t used to do it when we were kids.” She knows she takes a chance with saying it, lacing it tightly with unserious joking while she waits for Catra to get defensive.  
“Could say the exact same thing to you.”  
Oh. So they can admit to these things now, can joke about them openly without either of them pulling away? It’s a bigger relief than she thought it would be actually. 

Catra sighs when she turns onto her back, her pupils are blown out with lingering sleep and she just looks so _soft_. Part of her wants to touch and part of her just wants to look, she gives in to both. It’s easier than the last time, even easier than the time before that. She slowly moves her right hand to lay open next to Catra’s head, giving her time and space to move away if she wants to. Catra looks at it, her ears not hiding her surprise before shifting carefully into the touch. 

Adora’s still surprised at how much small actions mean, how getting to hold Catra’s face in her hand makes her heart race. But it doesn’t hurt like the spike of anxiety from minutes before. Catra starts purring quiet as a whisper into her wrist, closing her eyes against the small scratches Adora gives behind her ear. 

“Hey did I wake you up, in the night I mean?”  
“Yeah, you did.”  
“Sorry.” She starts pulling away only for Catra to grab her and pull her back.  
“It’s fine. I wasn’t dreaming about anything good either. Y’know I almost missed getting kicked in my sleep. Remember who you were fighting?”  
There's just blurry colours. “I, uh, no, I don’t remember.”  
Catra gives a small shrug, “Had to use Melog to calm you down.”

The cat in question raises their head at their name, knocking lightly against Adora’s face. She uses her currently unoccupied hand to pet them. Her entire body is buried under purrs and this is easily one of the best moments of her life.

“Have I mentioned how much I love your purrs?”  
Catra’s rumble cuts out when she huffs, “A few times yeah. Remember when I let you hear it the first time? We were seven, eight maybe? You wouldn’t shut up, told everyone all a-fucking-bout it.”

She ignores Catra’s pout when she takes her hand back but she does in fact need it to prop herself up on her side. Melog statically mews a retort as their pillow moves, slinking down closer to Adora’s feet. “You didn’t talk to me for three days.”  
Catra follows suit, mirroring her position, “I didn’t want everyone else to know Adora. It’s weird.”  
“It’s cute as fuck is what it is.” 

She really shouldn’t laugh at the over exaggerated shock on Catra’s face. “Adora swearing? I really am a bad influence.”  
She’s ignoring the cute thing then, probably for the best. Adora uses her free hand to shove at Catra’s shoulder lightly, voice maybe a little too indignant. “I swear all the time.”  
Catra shoves her in kind. “Not like that you don’t.”

She opens her mouth to respond, fuelled by that sparkling look in Catra’s eyes that says she’s about to pounce but they’re cut off.  
“It is too early for you to be this fucking _loud_ ,” Glimmer complains from under a blanket. 

Right, there are - were - sleeping people a foot or so away from them. Catra doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed; she probably isn’t. She always was the one to give a retort back when they were told to shut up in the barracks late at night (or early in the morning.) She sees Catra gearing up to do just that but a shake of Adora’s head and she stays quiet and sits up properly, tail sweeping as she holds back her words. 

_‘Trying.’_ Still makes her want to kiss her. 

“Come on Glimmer, we get home today, think of how good sleep will be when you’re in _your_ bed,” Bow says, successfully coaxing Glimmer out from her cocoon of thin bedding. Her hair is sticking up in every direction and she’s wearing her typical morning irritability. 

Gods, Adora thought _Catra_ was bad in the mornings until she met Glimmer. How naïve she was. But the thought of home and more sleep seems to be enough to get and keep her awake. 

Adora is not entirely ready for mauve eyes to lock onto hers with the intensity she receives, and yet, it happens anyway. Whatever it is has made all sleep fog vanish from her head apparently. “So did you talk about what happened yet?” 

Oh. That.  
_’Can you tell us yet?’_ is the question that hangs in the air unsaid, obvious enough for even Adora to pick up. And though she’s not looking at Catra, she can sense her bringing her knees to her chest, though not for any bad reason given the way Melog perks up. She’s just waiting for her to answer, because of course she’s not going to jump in right now and save her from this.

“No.” She doesn’t have the energy to indulge Glimmer in her obvious intrigue.  
“Wait so when you went off into the woods together to ‘shower’ you really didn’t talk it out?” She’s got a disbelieving look on her face she shares with Bow, he looks embarrassed but she doesn’t really know why. Nothing happened and they know that so...

“Sounds like you’re accusing us of something Sparkles, want to share with the group what that is?” She turns her head over to Catra at the lethal drip in her voice, she’s got a wicked smirk on her face where it’s resting against her knees. So much like last night but all the vulnerability and softness the position held then is gone. And as much as that look makes her throat dry and her blood fizz in its veins, now is not the time to set Glimmer off. 

Catra probably just needs to move, she gets like that sometimes, instead of lashing out physically she does it with words instead. (Then again she is also an asshole and Glimmer’s an easy target right now, so maybe it’s just that.) She puts a hand on her shoulder - she keeps _doing that_ (but Catra doesn’t push her off anymore so she’s definitely going to keep doing it) - because sometimes that all Catra needs to calm down. It works a little at least.

“She didn’t mean anything by it, and no, we didn’t do much talking.” There’s another look, and she gets the definite impression she’s missing something.  
“Both of you are shit at being subtle. I just fucking hate water so Adora was helping me stay calm or whatever. Didn’t exactly allow time for a heart to heart.”  
There’s some small realisation as the two remember that Catra does, in fact, have a deep fear of water. It gets the two to drop their interrogation at least. 

Catra shakes herself, stretching with the flexibility Adora’s only ever seen her possess. “I’m going to go catch breakfast.”  
Adora’s feet are cold when Melog leaves to follow her but she knows she’s smiling like an idiot as she watches them leave. 

* * *

“What’s for breakfast?”  
“Bird and rodent.” 

And even though Catra’s not grinning, not even smiling, Adora can feel the self-satisfaction rolling off her in waves. She came back from her hunt a mess, grin full of teeth. Adora had pulled a feather from her hair and stuffed it in her jacket pocket (not that she let Catra know that, although she probably saw it anyway.) She really couldn’t be blamed for ruffling Catra’s wild hair up even more afterwards. _Especially_ when it got Catra to laugh and shove at her just like they used to. 

“And we’ve got some berries left over from last night,” Bow says as holding up a bag full of them.

She watches the catches rotate above a low fire, skin blackening slowly. She eats some berries while she waits, only half-listening to whatever’s happening. She’s brought out of it by Catra’s voice, which isn’t that surprising really - Catra’s voice practically demands attention (her attention) most of the time - it’s just that this is the first time Catra’s spoken during a situation like this; in front of everyone.

“Wait, you’ve never had to share a room in your life?”  
There’s a mix of confusion and thinly covered anger in Catra’s voice that Adora knows well. Because having a room to yourself is a privilege all Horde kids know only to go to the highest of ranked officials - officials who had to claw their whole lives to get to such a high place. Adora remembers the ‘wait they just give one to you? Without you doing anything?’ conversation she’d had with Bow a two days after Thaymore well enough. 

“Well you know we had sleepovers, and then on Darla but other than that no, never had to,” Glimmer replies with the air of amusement one only gets from having the same conversation twice, knowing exactly how it’s going to go.

Catra’s splayed out on the ground with Melog against the log Adora’s sitting on, one knee up and she looks...comfortable (if a little irritated.) That confusion is gone though, replaced by easy taunting she’s always been so good at. “Sleepovers don’t count if you don’t already share the room Sparkles.”

She doesn’t know why it makes her heart feel lighter.  
_‘Catra’s here and surrounded by your friends and she’s_ happy _, that’s why.’_  
Oh, right. She doesn't even feel bad admitting to herself it sounds like everything she’s wanted for the past three years. 

“How many people were there?” Bow asks, “In your room?”  
“Well our barracks weren’t always full but it had sixteen beds,” she replies. If Catra’s surprised she remembers that so quickly neither she nor Melog show it.

People weren’t moved about all that often once they reached double digits, which while good as it brought a sense of stability, also made the loss when it did happen that much worse. She would stare at the vacant space where a sleeping body - maybe a friend, maybe just another cadet - used to be. When she was really young it was practically her greatest fear; that Catra would be taken away one day and she would never know what happened to her. Looking back, she’s actually quite shocked it _didn’t_ happen for all the threats they received. 

“No wonder you asked us to stay with you the first few nights.”  
_‘Dammit Bow.’_

She quickly looks over to Catra as she always does when her leaving is brought up in any capacity. Except this time it isn’t from fear that Catra will run or hiss or bar herself behind walls, but more for the sake of Adora’s own dignity. 

She can’t remember if she’s ever told Catra about her difficulty sleeping in the Rebellion but she doesn’t exactly feel comfortable admitting that the reason for said awful sleep was because Catra wasn’t sharing the bed with her. Because for all the years they were together, she’d become dependent on her even breathing and warmth dyeing the sheets at the end of the bed. She’ll tell her one day (if she doesn’t know already) because as embarrassing as it is, Catra ought to know how even to this day she still reaches towards the end of the bed for her when she wakes suddenly from nightmares.

But Catra doesn’t say anything or make any indication that she knows how deeply intertwined ‘sleeping’ and ‘Catra’ are to her. However, she does wait a few more moments than strictly necessary to ask another question, her ears flicking when she does, “What else should I be prepared for?” There’s a definite wary edge to her tone.

But okay so Catra’s ignoring the other part, good. And Catra’s asked a question that she should probably answer, considering she knows the differences. She tries to remember what she would’ve wanted to know at the start.

“Um, food whenever you want, no sleeping schedules really, no training schedules - not that you ever showed up on time anyway -”  
“- Hey.” Catra shoves at her knee that’s closest to her head, but she’s wearing a barely-there smile.  
“Well you _didn’t_.” She can’t help the tease, it’s just so easy and she’s missed this so fucking much. Missed the flash of retort in her narrowed eyes and the wicked point of her fangs under a playful smile.  
“And yet I was still second.”

 _“I wonder what I could’ve been if I’d gotten rid of you sooner.”_  
Funny how she still remembers every word. The memory tears through her chest the same way it always does, leaving her cold and heavy. It doesn’t seem to matter that Catra is looking at her, is here with her, not a cliff edge in sight. 

The flattening of her mood must be obvious because Catra’s teasing smile vanishes. She comes to sit beside her, ground and Melog forgotten in favour of sharing both the log and the food in her hands. Adora didn’t even notice that the food was done. 

“But hey,” Catra says, playfulness back already, as she knocks their shoulders together, “Think of all the stories we wouldn’t have if we had our own rooms.”  
She’s beyond grateful for the distraction. Barracks stories still hold a special place in her heart, and there’s enough of them to fill entire journals with. It’s enough to get her to smile again. She eats, trying to think of one that the others might like; an easy one that requires no Horde knowledge.

“That’s true. Like when Lonnie put a knot in your tail when you were asleep.”  
There’s an agitated lash of said tail as she remembers. Lonnie steered clear of Catra the day after, but Adora saw her around the compound nursing new claw marks on her arm. Half the group snickers and she worries for a moment that Catra will turn on them, not realising that the laughter isn’t malicious. 

There’s a mildly passive aggressive tear of meat under sharp teeth before Catra replies with: “What about when you saw Kyle naked for the first time and screamed loud enough to wake up the rest of the Fright Zone?”

She would breathe a sigh of relief if the feelings and _images_ brought on by her words hadn’t appeared. She groans (only a little exaggerated for Catra’s benefit) because oh gods no that’s an awful set of memories, even now. She hides behind her hands, pressing them into her eyes as if that’ll make the images go away. It never has before. 

She knows the others are laughing quietly, if only from her reaction. She thinks that this might be the first time Catra’s gotten people other than Bow and Glimmer to laugh. She’d be proud of her if she wasn’t still drowning in the remembered awkwardness of the memories (and unfortunately it is memories plural, sharing a room made sure of that.) If she was going to write a journal, _those_ stories would not be in it, _no one_ wants to remember that. Except apparently Catra.

“Firstly, I wasn't _that_ loud, second, why would you bring that up?” She half-snaps, hoping Catra won’t go into any further detail.  
Catra, of course, ignores it, now addressing the rest of the group instead, “Our Force Captain came in demanding what happened, _while_ he was still getting dressed.” 

There’s another quiet round of laughter from everyone else, partly from that ‘oh gods no’ kind of uncomfortable-funny while the rest are still laughing at her overreaction. When she removes her hands from her face to lay a glare on Catra, she just can’t, not with the mirth making her pupils wide in her eyes. And Catra’s just so _close_ , enough that she can feel her breath on her face. She doesn’t know when that happened but it doesn’t really matter, not when she’s smiling like that.

“He wouldn’t change in the barracks for months!”  
“That was not exactly a bad thing.” It’s a weak defense, but a fair one. To reiterate: _no one_ wanted to see that.

Catra leans back on her hands and it should make it easier to breathe with the distance. It doesn’t, because then she drawls, “You were so mean...” while looking at her from under her eyelashes. She knows there’s blood rushing to her face but it’s not like she could stop it if she tried. 

If Catra keeps on with this she might very well put her in a headlock, at least then she wouldn't sound _like that_. And she wouldn’t have to deal with her being _right there_ and not being able to do anything about it. It was always how she used to deal with these feelings, no reason for it not to work now. (And okay maybe back then she didn’t know _why_ Catra made her feel that way but the point still stands.)

“So were you!” Again, another weak defense but at least she’s said something.  
Catra shrugs, grin still firmly in place, “Yeah but I was always mean to Kyle.”  
That’s true. Still, it makes her sigh. “Gods how do you even remember that?”  
“Because I fell off my bunk laughing and got a bruise the size of a fist on my side. Which _you_ kept hitting during training.”

She doesn’t mean to wince, but she _had_ kind of used it to her advantage now she remembers. But she hadn’t known how big it was at the time, “Not intentionally...”  
Catra just raises an eyebrow in a look that clearly displays her disbelief and it’s accurate enough that it makes her feel sheepish. 

“Adora’s never told us Horde stories,” Glimmer says smiling, so at least someone _other_ than Catra is enjoying her nostalgia-induced misery. In fact most of the other people around them look content, even Mermista seems about as amused as Adora’s ever seen her - Sea Hawk of course loving a good story. 

“Really?” When she looks back at Catra the only one she’s looking at is her. Stupid butterflies. “Figured you’d be running your mouth off to your Princess friends about how awful it was to grow up with the enemy.”  
“I didn’t tell them because all the best ones were about you.”

Catra seems as taken aback by her honesty as she is, neither of them expecting it. She doubts anyone else can read Catra with how little she shows, but Adora’s spent a lot of time the last few weeks relearning her and she can see the softness there. Whatever momentary shock she’d caused leaves as fast as it appeared, settling firmly back into a teasing smile. “Aw you missed me Princess?”

Okay that’s it, she’s putting her in a headlock. She doesn’t know whether Catra expects it or not, but she manages to get a good hold on her all the same. The small shouts of protest make her laugh. She rubs her knuckles into Catra’s head before she scrambles free. There’s not even a flicker of rage in split eyes and it stops her worry before it even starts; Catra’s missed this too.

Before Catra can tackle her to the ground - which she undoubtedly will do - she says, “You know I did,” probably a bit too softly. And just like that Catra’s disarmed, hands (and ears) dropping down. Adora doesn’t expect her to say it back, knows Catra won’t feel safe enough here to do so. 

Catra’s looking at the ground pointedly when she mumbles, “Yeah I know…”  
It might not be what she wants to hear but it’s something. And it feels that much better when Melog comes and sits on her feet. 

When the two of them look back at the group around them, there’s a pretty even split of people obviously watching them as opposed to those purposely looking anywhere else. Does Catra even know how easily she can make Adora feel like they’re the only people in the world? 

Catra’s tail snaps against wood with her agitation and she stands sharply. There’s a second of deliberation then she turns and walks away. Adora watches her, trying to figure out if she’s actually upset or not. She doesn’t think so, not with Melog still happy and blue at her feet. 

_‘You pushed her too far.’_ She doesn’t know how right it is, there’s guilt anyway. But she does know that she’ll give her space, Catra probably just needs to be away from all these people she doesn’t really know. 

People - Mermista specifically - are still looking at her when she turns back. She doesn’t blame Catra for leaving, even she feels exposed under the look and Mermista is her friend.  
The Princess starts, “Adora what-“  
“- Before you say anything, know that Catra can definitely still hear us.” 

There’s just a bit too much accusation in Mermista’s voice for her to feel comfortable with what she knows she’ll ask. But the words do as intended and Mermista rethinks her decision to speak, staying quiet as she finishes her meal.

* * *

Her own backpack slung over her shoulder, Catra’s in her hand, she jogs over to where the woman in question (and now Melog) laze in the day-moonlight. Her ears swivel round and her tail waves languidly when she gets close enough, but she doesn’t turn. Melog winds around her feet, chirping a gleeful greeting despite it only being a few minutes separation, it makes her unreasonably happy because she’s sure that’s Catra’s doing. 

“You ready to go?”  
Rather than say anything, Catra moves and Adora watches the way light plays with the edges of her figure, like she’s glowing. She shakes herself out of the momentary daze when Catra gets close enough, eyes alight with softness that's _hers_ ; Adora’s. Catra takes the bag when she holds it out, slipping it on quickly. 

“Not yet, there’s still something I need to do.”  
“What?” she asks, looking around, suddenly worrying she’s forgotten something. 

Catra rolls her eyes at her and then a hand is on her cheek - apparently this is something they can do now, it’s a nice thought, makes her all warm and bright inside. For a split second she thinks Catra’s going to kiss her again, and despite what she said the night before, she wouldn’t even care, she’d welcome it in fact. But Catra’s lips land safely on her cheek instead and she breathes a small sigh of something akin to relief. 

Catra’s eyes manage to capture her when she pulls back, rendering her speechless for no good reason. “That. Fair’s fair right?” she says, like she’s not got the most beautiful smile Adora’s ever seen. 

And Adora gets that they still need to talk and this definitely is not the time, but she wants to kiss her anyway, the want makes her blood sing. She’s wanted to kiss her everyday for as long as she can remember, she just didn’t know it. The thought flattens her mood, enough to make her hands behave themselves and stay put by her sides. 

“Now come on dummy, thought you said you’re ready to go?”  
“Well technically I asked if you were ready to go.”  
Catra shrugs, “Eh, details.”

And they walk together, except unlike the last few times, Catra doesn’t walk ahead knowing Adora is following, she stays by her side. She probably didn’t intend anything by it but it makes her smile anyway. Catra doesn’t need to know why.  
  


* * *

They cross the first hill and the newly formed plains on the other side quickly, the green rocky ground soon morphing to the blue-purple dirt at the edge of the Whispering Woods within a couple of hours. Everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief at the more familiar ground, and Adora herself is grateful for it not changing. It’s not like it had a reason to, already so alive with magic even with the Heart siphoning its energy. It’s reassuring in a way she can’t describe. Still, the plants are more lively and magic hides in the leaves as they cut through blue brush.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

She still doesn’t get the woods; not their magic, or the weird animals, or the shifting landscape that Bow almost flawlessly navigates, but she does like it. She likes how wild it is, how even now it acts as a barrier for her - separating the known horrors of the Horde from the unknown ones with the Princesses. 

For all the teasing this morning (she finds that she’s still reeling from just how easy it is to fluster Adora now) she really would like to know at least a little more about Brightmoon before she gets there. 

She’s...scared. No. She won’t let herself be scared of this, this is a good thing. The war is won, she’s got Adora back and she’s happier than she’s ever been. She’s worried. (Close enough.) Because ‘Brightmoon’ for her isn’t really so much a place, rather a holding cell for years worth of pain and loss and regret. The feelings have long since distorted her actual memory of it. She tells herself knowing about it will help, will cement it as just a place in Etheria rather than whatever twisted thing it’s become in her head. She knows either way it’ll still hurt.

She walks faster, her and Melog catching up with Adora ahead. The smile alone when Adora sees her is enough to make her forget what she was going to say. She remembers she used to get so angry at Adora when that would happen in the Horde; it was just another weakness she wasn’t meant to have. Now she’s just angry with herself, and it’s not the destructive flame she’s so used to either, more reminiscent of glowing embers that die in seconds. 

“Hey.”  
And Adora’s _still_ smiling and Catra _still_ can’t remember what she was going to say. It also doesn’t help that golden magic is caught in her hair; she looks like moonshine. Damn her.  
She tears her eyes away, “Hey.” It doesn’t have the casualty that she wanted it to have.

There’s a pause and then; “You okay?”  
It’s soft, too soft, barely a whisper. No, no, no she doesn’t want this right now. She needs the rough joking Adora from this morning, the one she knows better than anything, not the newly vulnerable one that keeps showing up in the light of day. There’s so much _new_ , she doesn’t need anymore, doesn’t think she can handle anymore, doesn’t -

Melog meows, _“_ Are _you okay?”_  
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She doesn’t know who she’s aiming her bladed growl at. Maybe herself if the tang of blood in her mouth is any indication. She swallows it down past the _“Adora I don’t know how to do this,”_ that’ll never leave her throat.

She sees Glimmer and Bow turn back to them - maybe she was louder than she thought. There’s something akin to fear in their faces.

 _‘They’re worried about you too.’_ She doesn’t believe it.

Her body is rigid as she walks, growl simmering in her throat as she tries to just ask one stupid fucking question. It takes far too long to do so. It makes said question more of a demand when she forces it out. “Tell me about Brightmoon.”  
She doesn’t miss the looks, she wishes she had. 

“Um well…”

What starts as a simple list quickly deteriorates into a never ending ramble of anecdotes. It’s not surprising really, there was only so many times they could repeat _“Everyone gets their own bathrooms,”_ or _“I promise you don’t have to train unless you want to,”_ to her. She still won’t believe it till she sees it. She hates how nice it sounds, everything is just apparently _better_ than the Fright Zone.

 _‘That’s a good thing.’_ She can’t convince herself it’s true. Thoughts fill up her head faster than she cares to admit, things like; _‘No wonder Adora left as soon as she could.’_  
She can’t rid herself of the blood in her mouth for hours.

But she does it eventually. With each story she convinces herself more that this is a good thing. She’s escaping her past and moving on. Brightmoon is just a place - and one inhabited by her new friends no less. It’s a home not a fortress (though it’s that as well.) It's big and full of people which is more comforting than it should be. 

Adora whispers that there’s tons of high rooftops to her at one point. It’s just a small little thing letting her know that Adora’s thinking of how to make her comfortable there but it means the world to her. Not that she says anything. 

Melog tells her they’re proud of her for asking for help. It didn’t exactly feel like it, and it wasn’t so much an ask as a demand but she did it anyway.  
_“You’re trying that’s what matters.”_

She hates how imagining those words in Adoras voice feels like medicine.

* * *

***Adora***

* * *

She’s glad they saved their rations, just because it’ll mean they’ll be back on their way sooner. Not that she doesn't appreciate Catra catching fresh food for them. She loves the way Catra acts afterwards; wild and alive in a way that’s so rare for her. It’s infectious, makes her want to share that feeling with her. But she’s starving and glad to be able to tear into food without having to wait.

There’s something inevitable in the way in which the conversation steers towards the future, but she can’t help but wish that they stay in the now, at least for a little while longer. She sighs, loud enough for only Catra and her heightened hearing to pick up. She’s glad no one else seems to be paying attention to her (or either of them really.) Catra tilts her head to the side in inquiry (it’s adorable but not what she’s focusing on right now.)

“I don’t even know if I can begin to start thinking about the future. There’s already so much.”  
“I know what you mean.” Catra looks to the sky, her ears pricking up slightly when she seems to remember something, “I would offer to sneak you away but…”

She always would whenever it got too much back in the Horde. She had tried to hide how much things bothered her, even then, but Catra had a way of bringing it out of her. Most of the time though, she’d just know. She’d whisper, _“Come with me,”_ into Adora’s ear and she’d be helpless but to follow, heart beating so loudly she worried Catra might hear it. 

What ensued after were some of her best memories of Catra - when she’d let that secretly caring side of her actually show. They’d lie down on metal or lean against one another just a little more than usual on some ledge high above the low cloud of black smoke.

“I never thanked you for doing that.”  
“What?”  
She can’t meet her eyes when she says, “You’d -” She stops herself. It’s too vulnerable, and she’s already pushed Catra far today. She reigns it in, settling for a simple explanation, “I never thanked you for caring.”

She’s not expecting the heartbreak on Catra’s face, even less so the definite shine of tears in her eyes. “Adora -” she doesn’t finish.  
Melog shrinks and crawls into her lap, curling into her chest. She wraps her arms around them but she’s confused all she said was -  
“Adora you shouldn’t fucking _thank_ me for that. Of course I fucking cared, you…”

She has no idea what to do when Catra turns away, claws out and ears flat against her head. She settles for hugging the cat still sitting in her lap and not looking at anyone else. The only thing that stops her from panicking is the fact that Catra doesn’t leave.

Catra still hasn’t said anything by the time everyone gets up to resume the journey. Everything in Adora is screaming at her to touch, to hold, and to comfort. But she tried that and Catra turned away, Catra looked like she was about to _cry_ and she has no idea where to go from here. Doesn’t know if there’s anywhere _to_ go until Catra makes the next move. She’s just not used to Catra _being here_ after something like this, normally going missing for hours or days at a time. (And everyone says she’s a bad actress, and she is, so Catra must’ve known how terrified her disappearances would make her.) But Catra’s staying - they both are - she’s not going to run anymore.

And so she gets up, slowly and obviously hesitant, but she does it. Melog whines when she puts them down and she risks a glance at Catra (she has no idea what that sound means but it’s definitely not _good_.) She’s glaring at the cat which can only mean she definitely didn’t intend for whatever that was to happen. And if she didn’t mean for her to hear it then she probably shouldn’t even acknowledge it with how Catra’s acting. 

Adora grabs her bag from where she’d lain it against a tree and steps away from whatever’s just happened, Melog sticking close to her feet. She forces herself not to overthink it. As with pretty much everything that’s happened the last few days, there’ll be time to overthink later. She just wants to get home (and talk to Catra, preferably forever) and sleep in a proper bed again.

They can do at least some of that if they move. She gets to the edge of their clearing (if one could even really call it that, what with the sheer density of the trees) signalling to Bow for him to go on ahead. She’ll follow, slowly, waiting for Catra to catch up, but she will follow. Catra won’t lose them anyway - her senses won’t let that happen, they make her too aware. 

She told her that when they were twelve years old and she’s never forgotten it. Mostly because she felt the same way - the constant alertness she’s never known how to get rid of. But there were other reasons, ones that drag forward memories, painless enough for her to fall into the musings of them easily as she starts a slow walk. 

_“There’s just a lot, all the time. And it’s getting worse…”_  
_“Does it hurt, having so much?”_  
_“Not hurt, but it - I don’t like it. It’s tiring.”_  
_“Is there any way to switch it off?”_

_‘Is there any way I can help,’_ is what she meant. But Catra had just reluctantly said no. She remembers how desperately she wanted Catra to feel good around her, she knows that never really changed. 

Catra’s senses had heightened as she grew older, and no one was there to prepare her for it. Up until she was sixteen, she’d flinch and jump if someone spoke too loud or too close, would train just a little longer (if she didn’t skip it altogether) just to escape the assault on her senses that was the locker room when it was full of sweaty teenagers. 

Thirteen years old, she remembers Catra sneaking up behind her after training and dragging her away from the group (and in the opposite direction from the shower she really needed.) But Catra had braved the locker room while it was full of people for the first time in almost a year for her, so she went without (too much) protest. 

She doesn’t remember where they went, not anymore, but she knows it was dark and closed off and green like everything else in the Fright Zone. It didn’t matter because Catra was holding her hand and pulling her down to sit against the wall with her. 

_“What is it?”_  
Catra had gestured vaguely at her head, _“Trying to shut it off.”_  
She had stared at Catra for that, wondering why she brought her there, but too scared to ask in case she got defensive (even then, she knew that the ‘cat’ parts of Catra were an incredibly touchy subject. Shadow Weaver wasn’t exactly kind about it, wasn’t _kind_ about anything.)

She had continued to stare as Catra leant her head back against the wall, eyes closed and breathing in deeply through her nose. The twitching of her tail stopped pretty soon after that, and when she opened her eyes, Catra caught her looking.  
_“I just needed one strong thing to drown out everything else, don’t let it go to your head.”_

She smiles in the present, just as she had back then. The _“This is not because I like you,”_ was always a lie, now she knows exactly _how much_ of it was a lie. 

She’s not walked that far when she realises Melog has stopped a way back. She turns to find them and feels a hand grab at her wrist and drag from a completely unexpected direction. 

It’s only through her own shock that she doesn’t say anything when Catra pulls them together and throws her arms around her shoulders. The surprise leaves and Catra feels small in her arms when she hugs her back. So _this_ is what Catra wanted to do earlier, what everything with Melog meant, she just needed the distance and cover of trees. It makes her all but collapse into Catra with a wave of relief. 

She feels words as they’re spoken into her neck, “I don’t think I know how to not care about you.”  
The sincerity of it knocks the wind out of her and she understands the tears Catra was fighting earlier. “Me neither.”  
It might be the truest thing she’s ever said.

The hug is held just a little longer, and Catra squeezes her tighter before breaking it.  
“Because believe me I fucking tried.” Whatever cover Catra’s trying to accomplish ultimately fails because of the hoarseness in her voice. But even still, it does make her feel a bit better, less exposed. There’s matching small smiles on their faces when they run to catch up to the group ahead.

* * *

She gets distracted by Bow and his trackerpad about half an hour later; she’s always loved the simplicity of maps but something about the moving landscape fascinates her. Despite the two of them reading the map they’re not actually up front - if they need to change direction they just shout at Castaspella and Micah. 

Eventually Glimmer and Catra appear in front of them, ready to take the next leading shift. (Proving that apparently Adora’s instinct to run to Catra and help her up after teleporting is persistently undying.) And from then on, despite her many distractions, she manages to spend most of her time watching Catra, trying to solidify how she’s feeling. Catra’s acting as normal, she’s talking animatedly with Glimmer and Adora can’t ignore how happy it makes her. But that vulnerability earlier threw both of them and she wants some reassurance that she didn’t screw anything up too badly, it’s been at least an hour and she’s still surfing that uncertain worry. 

She’s not subtle in her staring and she figures she should care more, what with the whole ‘no questions until we talk thing’ she’s got going on with Bow and Glimmer. In fact Bow takes a deep breath beside her like he’s going to say something but aborts it last minute.

“What?”  
“Nothing.”  
“It’s clearly not nothing.”  
“Just, did something happen earlier?” Bow looks to Catra ahead of them.  
“I just said something that upset her.”  
“But it’s okay now?”  
“Yeah. At least I think so.” 

She hopes so. Catra _was_ smiling when they caught up (even if it was small, maybe she imagined it?) And she looks perfectly comfortable walking right now, the sway of her hips is the same as always - she realises then that she’s memorised it. Which she should probably be more concerned about.

“Well I’m glad you two are okay.”

And it is because she is _not_ still staring that she notices Catra’s ear flick back towards them before she turns. And oh, maybe she shouldn’t have been looking because Catra’s got that glint in her eye and her fang is playing with her bottom lip. And of all things she was expecting, Catra _winking_ at her was not one of them. (Which is on her because she really should have, Catra’s just _like that_.)

The result is instantaneous: her eyes go wide and the blood rushes to her face. She knows it does, she doesn’t even have to look at Bow to have it affirmed. And then just because she has the audacity, Catra turns around and continues talking to Glimmer like nothing has happened because she’s an _asshole_.

_‘And you love her so much.’_  
_‘Yeah, I really do.’_

She remembers there’s another person there only when Bow laughs, “Yeah I think you’re definitely okay.”  
She can’t even look at him, she knows her face is glowing as red as her jacket.

She’s incredibly thankful Bow doesn’t bring it up again. Although she supposes she might have to get used to things like that now. And it’s not like it’s the worst thing she’s ever experienced (she loves it but she is absolutely not ready to admit that.) 

Catra is going to flirt with her, in public places _and_ when they’re alone. And she’s going to _mean_ it instead of just using it to rile her up. And she’s going to get to see her everyday and she’s going to be able to hold her hand without flimsy excuses and she’ll be able to kiss her. And her thoughts kind of get stuck on _‘wow’_. (And also _‘I_ really _want to kiss her again, preferably when the world isn’t ending.’_ )

But not right now. They have time. They can figure this out together, finally, together again. And it won’t be like before, she realises, not entirely. They’ve both changed for the better, they don’t have Shadow Weaver hanging over them like a monster preparing to rip them apart. It’ll be good and loving in a new way and she finds she can’t wait.

She wants their forever to start right now - time, she reminds herself, they have time.

It’s maybe another two, three hours of walking in easy conversations before Brightmoon even appears on the trackerpad. But as soon as it does the entire group is re-invigorated with energy that is simultaneously expected and surprising.

Her heart rate picks up as the foliage thins, allowing the rising purple spires to wave at them above the canopy. She sees Glimmer teleport forward to take her dad's hand tightly up ahead. Stars is she glad to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I counted how many beds were in their barracks shut up. And yes I based the whole Kyle thing off how I would react if I saw a man naked, especially a pre-pubescent boy I'd grown up with. 
> 
> Me: must not make cat got the canary pun because it makes you cringe when you read it just do not  
> Also me: ☹️ 
> 
> Adora: Is it gay to have memorized the way your best friend's hips move when she walks? Asking for a friend.  
> And just being like holy fuck Catra’s flirting with me the whole fucking time? And not like as a joke or to piss me off? Unbelievable.
> 
> I've missed them so much guys you don't even know.


	5. Day 3 (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well. They're home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops this took 3 months.
> 
> Don’t Go is canon to me lads. Also the amount of hand-holding in this fic bordering on ridiculous. I need something to happen here…they hold hands. But in my defense *gestures vaguely at season 5*.
> 
> Content Warning: Catra kinda has an anxiety attack

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

It’s with some cruel irony that Catra sees the aftermath of Horde Prime upon Brightmoon. The destruction makes her heart ache, throwing her violently back to the time when this was the goal she sought. She’s never been happier to fail. 

She can’t read the rest of the group, not even Adora, there’s just too much there that she doesn’t understand. Glimmer starts laughing, breathless and happy, and soon everyone else is joining her. Bow throws an arm around Adora’s shoulders as he does so. The sorcerer - Micah, she remembers - is crying silently, though she knows he has good reason to.  
She never felt anything like relief or joy or even safety when she would return to the Fright Zone after missions. She’d mostly just felt resignation, occasionally dread. (If she won anything at all, the high would start wearing off soon after the smoke returned to her lungs.) And so she doesn’t try to understand, just stays quiet, surveying the area she’s never seen outside of battle as they start towards the bridge.

The Runestone she’d tried to destroy glows proudly high above them on an undamaged pillar spiralled in greenery. It’s flawless. She remembers Glimmer telling Horde Prime how the Heart needed the Runestones intact to work.

It’s a stark contrast to the rest of the scene.

The castle - the people - she doesn’t know how deep the damage runs. There are no bodies that she can see, but there are some chips dead in the water. There’s rubble from the efforts of clones and bots presumably, it just sits like relics in the shallow water, drowned in something like seaweed. Plantlife - blue and green and dusted with golden-white magic- seems to have taken over some of the castle walls as well, probably hiding most of the damage. 

It’s pretty; an opinion she doesn’t care to admit out loud. There’s flowing water that looks suspiciously clean without Horde tanks spewing smoke and other shit into it. And it _is_ as sparkly as she always joked about - in some way at least it’s nice to be right. 

“There’s no one here,” Glimmer sounds worried, it breaks her out of her wary musings.  
She’s confused by the Queen’s words till she remembers she has the best hearing out of all of them. The noise is subtle but it’s definitely present. “Yes there is.”  
“How do you know?” 

She resists rolling her eyes, instead sending Melog running ahead into the castle and waiting for a sound loud enough for the rest of the group. There’s a small shriek and everyone continues walking without another word. She sees Adora trying not to smile _too_ widely when she looks back at her. There’s a _‘are you okay?’_ in her eyes that Catra can’t answer truthfully. She waves her to go ahead anyway, glad Adora takes it at face value.

There’s more noise - footsteps and voices - whispering through the air than she thought there would be given everything. Prime must’ve not seen fit to direct all the chipped inhabitants elsewhere, so there’s still a fair amount of activity - though she wouldn’t be surprised if most people had fled from the clones once they were freed.

“The Queen has returned!” is shouted by some guards as they come running round the grand archway. The sound doesn’t grow too much with the announcement, though a small crowd starts gathering. There’s a collective gasp as the King is recognised. Glimmer and Micah walk ahead, both them and the court seeming half in a daze. The group continues forward together in silence, letting them have their homecoming on their own. 

Catra follows, or at least tries to. She gets an answer for Adora all too late. Her legs feel heavy as she stares down the end of the bridge, like she's trapped in quicksand. Everything feels too big. She’s too exposed. It’s too loud - no, it’s too quiet. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this _wrong_ her body is feeling like something crawling under the individual fibers of her fur. 

Melog bounds down from the archway, returning to her side immediately, she knows she’s going to need them. She needs a distraction from the way her claws unsheath at the _‘You shouldn’t be here,’_ getting louder and louder in her head. The now familiar earthy scent of the woods is leaving, replaced by growing...whatever it is Brightmoon smells like. 

It only adds to the _wrong_ ; it’s too clean and pure. There’s no comforting green-brown smog or the rush of thick water through pipes beneath her feet. No humming metal on all sides and it’s just so fucking _bright_. Apparently the place is eloquently named after all.

She walks. Slowly. Wary. Battle-ready. Her tail lashing and ears back.

She tries to remember her thoughts the first time she was here, (a terrible choice of distraction on her part.) Unsurprisingly most of them were about Adora and the new life she’d left her for. (And the battle she was waging.) She’d pushed them down then but now she can actually get answers they seem to be rearing their heads again. She tries to ignore the ones that don’t apply anymore, the venomous ones forged by her loss. She still hears them. 

Which room is Adora’s?  
_‘Was she as lonely in hers as you were in yours? Did every room feel empty without you in it?’_  
She...didn’t actually know that. The part that’s stained with her hurt hopes so, but the parts that _love_ shout that she never should have wanted Adora to suffer at all. It reminds her they’re moving past it, that she has her _back_ in her life. This isn’t the night she lost her. They're not miles apart anymore. 

_‘She loves you, she loves you, she loves you.’_  
Silly how the thought, though good - amazing, practically unbelievable - threatens to crush her with a worrying amount of emotion. She thinks if Melog wasn’t pressing up against her side mewing small _“You’re okay”_ s into her head, she might simply stop moving altogether. 

She turns her thoughts to easier questions, though it’s a slower journey than she’d like.  
What was Adora’s first night here like?  
_‘Did she feel any guilt for ruining your life?’_  
_‘She didn’t ruin my life. It was already miserable. She was the exception.’_  
_‘Adora tried to save you, she offered you a way out and you didn’t fucking take it and for what?’_  
She grits her teeth, throat shrinking like it’s making room for Brightmoon’s ‘too big’ everything. 

What does the rest of the world look like?  
There. A question that doesn’t come packaged with a million branches for her thoughts to run along. And she knows the answer to it, she’s seen it now. For fucks sake she’s been to space. It’s nice outside of rotting metal, it’s cleaner and wilder and colourful in a way she never could’ve imagined. And she knows that now.  
She always wondered what it was like outside and yet once she found out, she was still so fucking scared to leave. Because what if it wasn’t real; what if there really was nothing else - nothing better - for her out there?

What are her new friends like?  
That’s better, it makes her breathe easier. And well, she knows that one because now (at least some of them) are her friends too. She finds that having more than one is still strange. But a strange she knows she'll get used to soon enough; a strange she welcomes.

Before she knows it, they’re inside, the bridge behind them. She’s inside the Rebellion headquarters, seat of power of her ex-enemies. She almost laughs. She’s surrounded by gold and cream-pink walls, sheltered by towering domed ceilings.  
_“Wasn’t so hard was it?”_ She takes the rest of her weight off Melog, stroking their head in thanks. 

“The throne’s gone?” Micah asks.  
“Guess Prime got rid of it,” Bow replies. 

She pays little attention to them, eyes flicking around the room the way she always does in new places. She needs to scout all potential dangers, the response is too ingrained into her not to; number of people, places to hide, how tall the walls are, weapons, where there’s shadows. 

_‘You don’t have to worry about the last one anymore.’_  
She ignores the whirlwind of emotions the thought coughs up. It’s darkness and confusion and hurt and anger and self-loathing. And she doesn’t have room for it all in her head right now.

There’s a definite blanket of shock hanging over the residents, keeping them mostly quiet. They don’t even seem to notice her. Her body stays tense in preparation for something to go wrong once they realise she’s here, her ears back without permission.

She’s right to. The shock fades quicker than maybe she’d like (but slower than expected), the guards spring to the side of their Queen and thought-dead King, weapons drawn and pointed at her. Melog is red beside her but does nothing except growl. She forces her claws in. No reason to make this worse. She’s not in the Fright Zone, they’re not holding stun batons or red lightning in their hands. Even without the well known flash of electricity (magical or not) in her skin, her fur bristles. Adora seems confused for a second and it really is too cute for the situation. (A nice distraction if anything.)

“We’ll bring in the prisoner your majesty,” some faceless guard says from behind a mask.  
“What? No -” Glimmer starts but Adora’s body quickly blocks their bladed staffs.  
_‘Always the protector,’_ but there's no sourness to the thought. No, she’s thankful. _‘She’s on your side.’_ There’s nostalgia like a winter coat wrapping around her.  
The pikes aren’t dropped but they do lower slightly. She forces Melog back to blue, even if they still hum a low, buzzing growl.

“You’re really going to imprison the woman who saved the universe?”  
She wouldn’t exactly put it like that.  
It’s almost comical how quickly every set of eyes fall to her, even their friends. She’s once again reminded that they don’t know what happened. They’ll learn eventually. But for now she’ll tell them what they want to hear, she’s not itching for a fight (surprisingly), not right now.  
People always find it easier to believe what they want to hear. Either that or they just don’t care enough to hear the truth. Wariness filters through her words, “Adora, She-Ra saved the universe.” It also helps that it’s true. 

The hard set of Adora’s shoulders doesn’t soften when she looks over at her, her eyes are burning electric blue. “She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. And neither would I.”  
Adora’s tone leaves no room for a rebuttal and it keeps her silent, the adamance of her words making her whole body flush. She blames it on the magic holding her eyes. Stupid feelings. Stupid Adora making her feel like she’s worth something and making her want to kiss her in front of everyone when she really _can not do that_. 

She takes a deep breath when the magic lets go, guards stepping back at both Adora’s and Glimmer’s insistence. She tries not to be too smug when Adora reaches a hand back for her, she takes it easily, hiding her grin behind Adora’s shoulder. 

Her ears flick back again, catching the sound of flapping wings getting closer.  
_‘Great the horse is here.’_ Needless to say she’s still getting used to him.  
She can’t stop her ears twitching at the click of his hooves on stone, so loud compared to the hush of the room.  
“I felt She-Ra, what’s wrong?”  
Bow starts, “Nothing’s wrong just a misunderstanding -”  
Adora doesn’t even bother to hide the snap in her voice, “- You didn’t tell them Catra was coming with us did you?” 

Catra’s always liked it when Adora gets angry (when it’s not directed at her anyways.) It made her feel better about herself; if perfect Adora can feel that way, then surely it’s okay if she feels the same. To her fourteen year old self, it made absolute sense.  
But she’s not fourteen and Adora’s not angry at her; she’s angry _for_ her and it’s making her preen a little on the inside. She keeps her grin (and the wave of her tail) small even as she grips onto Adora’s upper arm with her other hand. (She kind of wants to rest her chin on Adora’s shoulder - she knows she’d let her - just to drive home to _everyone_ here that Adora cares about her. That _She-Ra_ lets _her_ , Catra, be close to her like that. But she holds back.)

“I told them you had a prisoner - which I am now realising you don’t have with you.”  
“Hordak is going to the Kingdom of Snows.”  
“Ohhhhh. Sorry guys, my fault. ”  
Catra can’t help the roll of her eyes, and it seems neither can Adora (although hers lacks the fondness Adora’s has.) 

There’s a small silence before Mermista drawls, “Okay, now what do we do?”  
Glimmer visibly starts shimmering when she says, “Well I for one can’t wait to see my room again.”  
Catra’s half surprised that Glimmer doesn’t teleport them all there in her excitement.  
“Well come on then.” Bow’s grinning ear to ear at her when he hugs Glimmer to his side and starts leading her in what Catra assumes is the direction towards said room, two guards following close behind them. No one bats an eye, so she's assuming that's normal.

“Yeah, I’m gonna pass…”  
“Come my love, to the kitchens!” Mermista groans but let's Sea Hawk drag her in the opposite direction. A group of civilians - staff maybe - follow them. She vows right then and there to learn the layout of this place as soon as possible.

Glimmer doesn’t teleport them anywhere in the castle at all (which Catra is grateful for), despite the anticipation rolling off her. There’s a wonder on her face as she takes in her home, a more exaggerated version of it on Micah’s face. Catra doesn’t linger in her looks. She’s trying to make a map of the winding, identical hallways in her head. It’s more difficult than it should be; the lights and the smells bombarding her sensibilities. 

It must show because only a few minutes later Adora whispers, “You okay?” to her, squeezing her hand. (She hasn’t let her go since the throne room, not afraid to admit to herself that the familiar touch is grounding.) Because of course Adora’s coming home and still thinking about people other than herself.  
Still, she mutters, “About as well as can be expected.”  
“I know it’s weird at first, just give it time.”

Time; she’s never really had that before. At least it’s never felt like she has. Time to do things that she wants to do, things she’s never thought of doing, things she’s never been able _to do_ before. She tightens her grip on Adora’s hand and it’s returned in equal measure, she hopes it conveys how much she wants Adora to be right. She wants to be comfortable here, with her and _their_ friends. 

“And if you’re worried about the guards, don’t be. When I first got here I went into the courtyard trying to figure out the sword, which I didn’t exactly go _well_ , but that’s not important. Uh, anyway, I ended up in the town - which is actually a lot closer than you think it is - but I was still wearing my Horde uniform. And yeah, you can imagine how well that went. I mean there was screaming and swords and...it was a mess. ” Adora finishes her ramble, rubbing at the back of her neck the way she does when she’s embarrassed. 

_‘I love you so much.’_  
“Idiot.”  
“They chased me into the woods and I got lost, met a crazy old lady who knew the last She-Ra - I really should visit Razz soon. I have no idea how she handled the whole _invasion_ , but I wouldn’t put it past her to have chased them away with her broom. Or just run away, she is _scary_ fast.”

She doesn’t even try to keep the amused confusion off her face, and Adora just waves her off when she sees. She’ll know all these things eventually, she realises, and it makes her feel all light inside, brighter than every one of the hallways they’ve passed. 

(Some of the halls have ‘windows’ in them, except for the fact there’s no glass which just seems stupid. Surely the floors will get wet when it’s raining? How the fuck do they keep the heat in? The point of walls is to keep the outside _out_ right? She figures Princesses are just that weird and tries not to think about it too hard. And ultimately fails.)

There’s paintings and carvings all along the walls, pastel like everything else, so much so she doesn’t give them any notice at first. Stories of Brightmoon, of battles won and lost, of rulers and subjects. She simply refuses to look at any depictions of the late Queen, not ready to face that yet.  
She’ll have to. She knows that. But...not yet. Today is _meant_ to be a good day. It’s been about as rocky as every other one of her ‘good’ days, but she’s _happy_ (along with everything else) and thinking about people lost because of her own actions will drag her down into shadows so deep she’ll drown. 

She squeezes Adora’s hand just to feel her pulse against her skin; strong and rhythmic. It keeps her afloat in her own head.

They get to a crossroads of sorts after going up a set of stairs. The guards stop before passing through the next archway - which she pays more attention to than she'd like. It’s regal the same way everything else has been, but the way Bow, Glimmer and even Adora all relax into the place makes her think it’s the living quarters. If she strains herself, she can smell the barest trace of Glimmer embedded into the walls. There’s that overwhelming, unknown feeling of _‘home’_ she’s never had about a place. 

“This is where we part ways I guess.” Glimmer draws her attention away from the towering ceiling overhead. She remembers that they each have their own rooms here. “You going to be alright dad?”  
Micah nods, saying, “I think I can still find my way around.”  
If he can, given how long he’s been away, Catra knows she’ll be impressed.

The king strides off down a hallway, looking undeniably confident in his decision. She can’t read off anyone if he’s actually going the right way.  
“I’ll go with him, make sure he doesn’t get lost.” Castaspella is smiling softly at Glimmer, a hand on her arm.  
“Take him to - to my mom’s room okay?” The hesitancy even makes Catra wince. And she's looking at the floor when Castaspella half-runs after her brother. 

The guilt she’s been shoving down is crawling steadily up her throat, making her curl in on herself. That _‘You shouldn’t be here,’_ is ringing again. Melog’s at her feet trying to soothe her, but her discomfort must still be obvious because when Adora looks at her, she’s clearly trying to figure something out. Adora’s hand loosens, like she’s worried the _contact_ of all things is making her uneasy. It’s sweet of her to be worried about it, but it’s also stupid. Her own grip acts as a vice; _‘don’t leave me be alone right now.’_

The message seems to get through okay, Adora shifting a little closer to her, holding her back just as tightly. It’s obvious Adora doesn’t know the origin of what she’s feeling - if she understands that it’s _guilt_ that she’s feeling at all. But she’s here, and she _cares_ , so it’s more than enough.

Bow and Glimmer turn back to them finding their joined hands instantly and then proceeding to resolutely look anywhere else. Makes her feel a little better - it’s kind of funny. (They’re acting as if they haven’t been holding hands the entire walk here.)  
“We’re going to go, let me know if it’s a mess in there?”  
Adora responds, “Will do.”

She’s still not sure why Glimmer doesn’t teleport, instead taking Bow’s hand and dragging him down the north-west corridor. Maybe she likes the walk? Either way, it has her, Adora and Melog left standing in the circular crossroads and more alone than they've been all day. She really does try not to let her increasing disconcert show too much since being alone with Adora is not what is causing it, but she'll probably read it that way. However, she feels her ears go back and that’s all Adora needs. 

But Adora doesn't pull away like she thought she would. The near-death-grip they have on each other lets up just so that Adora’s thumb can start tracing small circles into the back of her hand. It’s so fucking pathetic that such a small thing has her feeling so much better. She removes her eyes from their hands when Adora speaks;  
“Do you want to come with me to my room? You don’t have to, if you want we can just go to the gardens. I know this has to be so weird for you and I don’t want you to be any more uncomfortable than you already are and -”  
“- Adora, it’s fine. I’ll get over it." She gestures her head back towards the guards only a few feet away. "Just...don’t leave me alone right now, okay?” She whispers the last part, but she’s honestly quite surprised she was able to say it out loud at all.  
Adora fucking melts, whispering as well, “Anything you need.”

It’s easier to see her soften when they’re alone. If she’d done or said any of that even a minute ago she’d probably be running. But right now they’re not moving, at all actually. It lasts a few seconds before she rolls her eyes.

“You gonna take me to your bed or not Princess?”  
And maybe she says it low enough to get Adora to flush up to her ears, but she doesn’t think she can be blamed for doing that. It’s just too easy. (She’s actually handling it quite well considering she looked about ready to combust over a single wink earlier.)  
Adora mumbles, blush trailing down her neck, “Not like that…come on,” pulling her gently down the east corridor, Melog happily trotting behind them.

“Well this is me,” Adora says when they arrive in front of the most grandiose bedroom door she’s ever seen. She probably should not be staring this hard at a _door_ of all things, but she can’t help it. Just like she can’t help this dread creeping up on her when she thinks about what might be behind it. 

But at least Adora is just as nervous as she is if the way she’s rubbing at the neck (again) means anything. “Uh…”  
She drops Adora’s hand, sighing and crossing her arms, “Adora, open it.”  
Adora snaps up at the words, reminiscent enough of an order that she’s able to respond as such. “Right.”  
Fuck is she cute when she’s a mess.

The door opens and it’s all rather underwhelming. It’s just a room, as Brightmoon is just a place. 

Adora watches her as she crosses the threshold and it’s almost like she was expecting something awful to happen with the way the breath rushes out of her. It’s fine. She’s in Adora’s room and everything is fine. She breathes long and deep, and even though it’s been weeks (she’s unsure how long she was actually on Prime’s ship, it might even be a month or two since Adora was last here), it smells like her. _Adora_ is weakly infused into the air, unmarred by anything or anyone else unlike their barracks. And it is purely for that fact alone that she can relax. 

It’s white and purple and an almost replica of everything else in the palace. If it weren't for the smell, she might not even be able to differentiate it. She starts picking apart the room subconsciously; the dust that dances in the air, the green that creeps around the high windows, crawling along part of the ceiling, the blue of the gently flowing water, the gold door bolted into a wall. She walks around the bed, into the strange tent thing around it. The scribbles of half formed battle plans stuck to the wall almost make her laugh, fondness bubbling inside. 

“Well at least the clones had the decency to leave my stuff intact.”  
Adora comes next to her, a small amount of contact made between their arms. Adora’s subtly biting at her lip, making her remaining nervousness readable. She just has to knock their shoulders for her to relax again. 

“Oh yeah I’m sure the invading clone army’s first priority was to just mess up She-Ra’s stuff. Sounds like something Prime would do. He was petty like that.”  
Adora shoves her properly, and she laughs while falling back into the bed and the tiny plume of dust it coughs up. She can’t help the series of sneezes. And neither can Melog it seems when she hears an echo of herself from the other side of the room. 

She sits up, leaning back on her hands. The bed feels familiar - huh? Who knew that the Rebellion had Horde beds? (It is still nicer, even more so than her Force Captain bed but it feels near enough the same.) She doesn’t know how to feel about it, mostly relieved there’s at least _some_ things that are the same. 

“You gonna show me around then?”  
Adora’s grinning ear to ear when she offers a hand to pull her up.

The adjoining bathroom is first - the utterly fucking ridiculous bathroom. With the biggest shower she’s ever seen, and something called a bath. Best way Adora could describe it as was ‘an indoor pool, but where you get clean’ which she supposes gets the idea through her head. ( _“There’s a pool on the balcony as well though?” “That one is just ornamental. I don’t understand it either…”_ )  
Unsurprisingly, even Rebels don’t spend a lot of time in bathrooms beyond actually using it.

But then Adora drags her out to the balcony. And by drag, she really means Adora pulls the curtains open fully and she’s stunned by one of the most amazing views she’s ever seen. Adora pushes her outside with an insistent hand on the small of her back until she’s painted in outside air. Melog follows, hopping up on two paws to look over the railing.  
“I’m gonna change okay?” Adora says it into her ear, really the only reason she’s able to register it right now.  
“Sure, take all the time you need.” The dismissive nature of her voice has Adora laughing quietly as she reenters her room. Catra doesn’t even look back. 

It takes a minute or so for her to break out of her haze. It’s strange, unsettling, of her to think that Adora’s been looking at this for three years. Well, not exactly _this_ , but close enough.

She calls back, “Did you…” but she doesn’t know how she is to finish that sentence. There seems to be so many ways to end it, so much so that the possibilities tie her tongue.  
“Did I what?” Adora pushes the curtain aside as she exits, joining her on the balcony in fresh clothes, practically identical minus the jacket, and she just looks so happy. 

Of course she is, she’s home. Catra’s...not. She doesn’t even know where home is anymore, the only concrete thing that comes to mind when she thinks of the word seems to be Adora herself, and a person can’t be home. Not as far as she’s aware. A safety, a haven, definitely but...

“I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start.”  
Adora’s fingertips ghost down her arm till they reach her hand, she takes it, silently grateful at the touch. She’s already half-way used to Adora taking her hand whenever she wants. (The feeling itself she’s long past used to, it’s the initiation of the act that keeps her reeling.)  
“Well, we’ve got time haven’t we?”

Again with the time. She tries to think it through again; everything it means. Time to be together without Shadow - without _her_ breathing down their necks. Time to relearn each other. Time to adjust. Time to grow. The whole concept almost makes her dizzy. Maybe Adora’s struggling with the thought as much as she is. (Would explain why she keeps bringing it up.)

When she turns, she gets caught in blue-grey eyes, swept up in the hope there. It’s funny how the mesmerising landscape spread before them, alight with magic, is forgotten so quickly. She’s got Adora’s eyes back in her life, and she doesn’t see pain or disappointment or anger in them anymore, she sees love and hope and relief. She brings her other hand up to hold Adora’s face, just to keep those eyes just a little longer. Adora doesn’t hesitate to lean into it. It makes her heart pound in her chest. 

She realises she hasn’t answered her question but all she does is hum an agreement. Adora doesn’t seem too unhappy with her lack of an answer, leaning forwards to press their foreheads together. It makes her breath catch in her throat. She can feel a purr bubbling in her chest, she lets it loose in Brightmoon air.

They don’t move for a long while, basking in gentle wind, moon’s light and magic. Her head falls to Adora’s shoulder, arms having wrapped around each other a while ago. It’s wretchedly intimate for daylight.  
And she doesn’t care. (That much.) Not here, isolated from everyone else. Maybe it’s because none of this feels exactly real, which is causing this calm. The one wherein she lets Adora hold her in the light of day. Where Adora just lets her hold her back.

She’s not really thinking when she does it - a testament to the comfort she finds from within Adora’s arms. There’s nothing more in her head other than _‘warmth’_ , _‘home’_ (apparently it can be tied to a person), _‘I want to’_ and _'I can'_ when she places a kiss on Adora’s jaw. 

There’s a sound of surprise originating beneath her head that she almost laughs at. But that sound might be discomfort, so she doesn’t. “Too much?”  
“No, no, not at all, just wasn’t expecting it.”  
It sounds like Adora’s smiling sheepishly, and it’s enough to have her huff out a laugh against the skin of Adora’s neck, purr rising again. 

“I never imagined I would be here,” she can’t help sighing it.  
There’s a pause, a swallow in Adora’s throat before she says, “I did. I imagined you here with me. Way more than I should’ve, I can admit that now.”  
The awe Adora seems to find in the words is enough to have her choked on her own emotion. She starts to pull away, “I’m sorry -”  
Adora won’t let her go though, strokes sure fingers along the base of her ear, making her body want to liquify. “I know. I know, I am too.”

She tries to fill her head back up with her scent, but the melancholy remains, “We could’ve had this sooner.”  
_‘Whatever this is.’_  
“We have it now. Can that be enough?” It’s close enough to pleading that it has the feeling of falling running through her chest.  
“More than enough.”

Melog jumps down from their lookout point, begins to wind around their legs before disappearing into Adora’s room. She looks after them (unfortunately dislodging Adora's hand), wondering what they’re doing. She hears a sneeze and not much else.

Adora steps back, looking sad at having to do it. “That’ll be the dust. I should probably start cleaning if I want to not choke to death in my sleep.”  
“Aw, we wouldn’t want that.”  
She lets her tail brush along the length of Adora’s arm when she walks ahead of her, back into the room she’s tried to picture for years.

* * *

  
There is a lot of sneezing (from everyone in the room) involved in changing the bed sheets but other than that it’s a practised routine. The bed itself may be different but the process is the same and the sheets are changed in just over their record time. (She’s surprised she still remembers the numbers, even more surprised is she that Adora does too.)

She laughs at Adora’s pout when she can’t find a broom and Adora laughs at her face when she looks in her wardrobe and finds five copies of the exact same outfit. (Honestly she doesn’t know what else she was expecting.) There’s some cleaning equipment in the cabinet under the sink so they can get rid of the dust coating the tops of furniture but that’s about it. It’s better at least. 

The three of them don’t stay in Adora’s room long after that, hunger dictating they leave. (Most of Adora's secret stash of food isn’t edible anymore.) She can’t convince Adora to leave her jacket behind despite how this is her home, and no one she doesn’t know is going to see her - and how good she looks without it. Not that she says the last part explicitly so she’s not really sure if Adora gets it. She adds it to her mental list of things to tell Adora eventually.

It feels as though they have to walk half a mile to get to the dining hall. She likes it. Similar to the Fright Zone. There’s everyone and more already there when they arrive. Guards she doesn’t know are watching her warily (which is fair), as well as even one or two civilians. Adora nods silently at a guard with a scar across the bridge of her nose - obviously someone she knows - but she doesn’t interact with her beyond that, instead leading the two of them over to a table full of Princesses. 

Dinner is uncomfortable, or maybe that’s just her. Sitting with Princesses she knows wouldn’t have been so bad, but every now and then civilians come over to talk to them. Everyone here is as pink and sparkly as she expected, all bubbly with post-war glee even two days later. (It only fades a little when they see her, so she counts it as a win.) Or maybe they’re just happy to have their Queen back, that would make sense she supposes; the rebels actually like their leaders. 

But as uncomfortable as it is, she would sit through one hundred of them for two reasons. One: she’s had dinners with Horde Prime, nothing could be as painful and all-around terrifying as that. Two: the food is easily the best thing she’d ever had. Adora had stuffed her face as soon as food was put in front of her, and it was strange that she missed such a silly thing. (It’s not like they had food to spare in space.) But then again she’d missed practically every part of Adora so she guesses this was to be expected.

She keeps quiet for the whole of it. Maybe one day she won’t feel so out of place, but today is not that day. People leave the table intermittently until it’s just her, Melog, Adora, Bow and Glimmer.

Glimmer sighs, “I am so looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.”  
“Everything all good in there then?”  
It’s nice seeing Adora relaxed as she is, leaning back in her chair with a small smile.  
“Untouched. Just had to change the sheets to get the dust off them.”  
Bow shoves his plate away, “Same with mine.”

Adora hums before something seems to appear in her head, causing her to lean forwards, “Hey where’s Catra going to sleep?”  
She hadn’t even begun to think about it actually, the thought that she would be staying _here_ hasn’t actually occurred to her until now. 

Glimmer says, “Oh, well Catra can have the spare room.”  
“The one we didn’t use as a prison though.”  
She pretends not to notice the way Adora mouths ‘Shadow Weaver’ at them.  
“Sea Hawk and Mermista can have that one then, I’ll go find them after this… It’s going to be weird sleeping in different rooms again.”  
“That just means Best Friend Squad sleepovers!” 

Melog chirps from her feet at the idea. Bow’s excitement is infectious and that is the _only_ reason why she smiles slightly, and definitely not because the notion of regularly sleeping in a room full of people again sounds like relief in her head.

* * *

  
“This is your room for as long as you want it,” Bow says to her when four of them end up in front of another ornate door. (Glimmer having teleported out the dining hall to find Mermista and Sea Hawk.)

They’re still giving her a choice; a way out. Fucking good guys. The small thoughtfulness in the words makes her mutter a small “Thanks,” that doesn’t say anything close to the gratefulness she feels. She just hopes she’ll get there eventually - that what she’s meant to be striving for right?

The room is circular, wide, open, and practically empty save for a...bed? She thinks it’s a bed, but it’s unlike any she’s ever seen before. It’s fucking pink and looks like a pastry (something she’s actually had now.) Despite her own wariness, Melog jumps on it, humming as they knead at the stuffing. The incredible give of the fabric makes her uncomfortable just looking at it. 

“Well, that’s a weird ass fucking bed but after two nights on the floor, not exactly complaining.”  
Bow smiles, a sleepy thing. “Night Catra, night Adora.”

Melog turns on the bed, managing to sit passive-aggressively, and hums, _“What about me?”_  
“Bow, think you’re forgetting someone.”  
Melog yowls a sad little noise. She thinks Bow might melt into the floor, but instead he runs over and hugs the cat, leaving the two girls in the doorway.  
“Goodnight Melog.”  
The cat returns the sentiment, however pointless.

“Alright, alright, you’ll see them tomorrow Arrow, calm down.”  
“But they’re so cute!” At least he’s not saying it to her. Melog seems pleased with it anyway, nudging against his face.  
Adora’s ready to meet her with an eye roll when she turns back to her.

Bow raises his hands, “I hear what you’re saying -“  
She tilts her head, “- Not really.”  
He ignores it, “- I hear it. You’re tired and I’m going.”

He pats her shoulder before he leaves and she’s mildly surprised he doesn’t hug her too. But she’s grateful for it, touch right now feels like it’ll just add to the uneasiness that hasn’t really dissipated. Of course there’s an exception, but that’s not his fault. (It’s Adora’s.)

They wave him off as he sets off down the hallway.

* * *

***Adora***

* * *

She waits until she can’t hear his footsteps anymore.  
“Are you going to be okay? I know - well you kind of know - how badly I slept when I first came here. It’s really quiet and after y’know, the barracks it - Just...you can come find me if -”  
She’s glad when Catra cuts her off, “Adora, I know where you are if I need you.”

She wants to say she doesn’t have to _need_ her to sleep in her bed, that she never _needed_ to in the before, she just did it because that’s what they did. But maybe Catra did _need_ to, and she just never knew. It wouldn’t be surprising if Catra never said it, it’s expected in fact. 

She doesn’t know what to say in response to her own thoughts. So she goes with the safe option of: “Alright.” And gods why does uncertainty feel like failure? “I’ll go get you some clothes.” 

She turns down the hallway before Catra has a chance to say anything, it feels cowardly, like she’s running away.  
_‘You kind of are.’_  
_‘Shut up.’_

Her door has never felt so heavy. The room feels pressingly empty, even when the shadows are chased away by artificial light. Once again she’s glad she never wavered that far from Horde clothes as she bundles some up and grabs a spare toothbrush from her not-so-secret supplies drawer. She just wants Catra comfortable here (with her) and providing her with anything she already knows is going to help that.

Glimmer’s _“Can you tell us yet?”_ rings in her head as she realises they haven’t actually talked about everything like they said they would once they finally found some time alone. It’s a lot more daunting now that she’s faced with the opportunity to do it.

She spends the walk back trying to figure out how to start that particular conversation and by the time she gets back to Catra’s room (she doesn’t know why that concept almost makes her laugh) she still hasn’t figured it out. All she says is, “Hey,” when she finds herself back in the doorway.

Catra turns from where she was standing, staring at the bed. “Why do you get a normal bed and I have,“ she waves at the mass of pink bedding, “This?”  
“I asked. And here _that_ is normal. Here, try not to claw them up,” she says, voice far too soft for the joking way she meant it as she offers out clothes and a toothbrush..  
Catra mumbles, “No promises,” as she takes them. 

Catra muffles a little yawn behind her hand that probably has her wearing that dopey smile Catra said she sometimes wears around her. She doesn’t really care all that much.  
“You tired?”  
“What do you think?” 

And any plans of trying to do the whole ‘talk’ thing fly out the window. They have tomorrow (and hopeful everyday afterwards) to do that. Right now they both just need sleep...alone...in their own rooms. And that means saying goodnight. Which she should really do. Right now.

She steps away from the bed, closer to the door as Catra lays her gifts down. “You sure you’re going to be okay here?”  
Catra turns around huffing, “Adora…”  
It gets her to smile anyway, putting her hands up in mock surrender, “Okay, okay I’ll get out of your hair.”

She’s still smiling as Catra follows her back to the doorway. Melog is already making a nest on the bed when she looks at them, and she knows they don’t have a specific colour for tired but if they did, they’d be shining with it. 

Catra’s got her arms crossed but other than that she looks comfortable - soft even. Enough so that she feels safe enough to rest a hand on the back of her head, careful to avoid the almost fully-healed scar there. She knows what she wants to do, it’s really just a matter of if Catra will allow it. Which, even though she hasn’t _really_ shied away from anything so far, is still a very open-ended question.

Catra’s arms unwind back down by her sides, she looks almost like she’s daring her to do something. She's struck still with how much she wants to run her hands through her hair again, to kiss her and tell her that she loves her. It’s at moments like this that she hates her own resolve - why _shouldn’t_ she tell Catra that she means the world to her? 

_‘Because it’s late, and you’re probably not going to make any sense and Catra’s had a hard day full of an endless amount of new things and she’s trying so fucking hard and she deserves to just rest now and -’_  
Her rambling thoughts make enough sense to prevent her from saying anything stupid, but not enough to stop herself from bringing Catra just a little closer and kissing her forehead.

She dared to do this once when they were kids, only when she was entirely sure Catra was asleep. She regrets never doing it again. Catra stiffens and softens again within the same second, purr quietly stuttering out of her throat before she wrestles it back down. 

She smiles again, whispering into her hair, “Night Catra.”  
Her movements feel weighed down, but she manages to turn and start walking away. She gets all of eight steps before -  
“Adora -”  
She turns around too quickly, too hopeful for something she doesn’t know. There’s deliberation on Catra’s face but it resolves itself and her shoulders fall slightly with her tail. She’s too far away to properly see Catra’s face, but the way her voice says, “Sleep well,” softly makes her hope she’s smiling.

There’s an unfamiliar mix of joy and sadness that settles into her as she walks away. She’s so unfathomably happy that Catra is here at all, but there’s still that melancholy at leaving her, even like this. It doesn’t seem to matter that she knows she’ll see her tomorrow. 

_‘I’ll see her tomorrow, I’ll see her tomorrow.’_  
It plays over and over again until she slips into her own room, the door clicking shut. She’s left alone in the moonlight. She pulls the curtains closed so the room is drenched only in pale artificial light from the hanging glasses overhead. The room has never felt so cold. She gets ready for bed almost in a haze, the disbelief of being back having not faded fully and in no way aiding her in her actions. 

She does try to keep her mind off Catra but she’s never been very good at that; not when they were friends, not when they were enemies, and especially not now they’re whatever they are. Those split eyes stay as haunting as they always were. She’s used to seeing them in the mirror and the shadows of her room late at night, just now it doesn’t hurt. 

A lot of nights she’ll sleep with the lights on, a habit from growing up sleeping in Horde barracks with their automatic low-lighting. She doesn’t do it tonight, all reminders of sleeping in her Horde bunk won’t help. The ghostly loneliness she feels staring up at the canopy above her aches in a familiar way. One she felt every night Catra spent up in her bunk instead of her bed, and every night she slept apart from her on Darla. Catra’s so close but she’s still away, she’s not here when she could be. But if Catra needs space then she’ll give it to her.

It’s a real testament to her own exhaustion that she manages to fall into the arms of sleep at all.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

She thinks she falls asleep, but she’s not really sure. She tosses and turns on the too-soft bed, probably leaving scratch marks in it, hating that she almost misses forest ground. She’s grateful of the bed, of the room itself but it’s - it’s going to take _a lot_ of getting used to. (She’s already half-planned how to ask Glimmer for a copy of the bed she saw in Adora’s room.)

There’s jumps in time that must mean that she’s sleeping but it never lasts, has her restless and more awake than before. She tries to keep still as soon as she hears Melog’s near-silent sleep hums, not wanting to wake them, but that just makes it worse. 

It doesn’t help that the clothes she’s wearing still (incredibly) faintly smell of Adora. She fucking misses her. It’s been what? Hours? And she misses her already. Gods she really is pathetic.  
_‘You could just go to her.’_ Her head is a fucking traitor. But it has a point. 

She can go find Adora (not that she _exactly_ knows the way to her room, but she can probably find it with sense of smell alone) and Adora won’t turn her away. It’s not like they haven’t spent the past two nights next to (and wrapped around) each other anyway. She was invited. Although that might just be Adora’s selflessness seeping through, certainly seemed like it. 

There’s a _lot_ of deliberation before the resounding thought in her head is just _‘fuck it.’_ She’s going, and if Adora’s asleep? Well, then she’ll figure it out. It’s taken her this fucking long just to get over herself and find _any_ resolve in this matter. 

She’s careful not to move the bed too much, succeeding if the continuous static hums she hears are any indication. She keeps all her claws in so they won’t click on the stone underfoot as she slips out the room entirely and into one of the identical hallways. And she’s right; even if she didn’t know the way, she can follow Adora’s scent like a beacon guiding her home.

* * *

***Adora***

* * *

That easy sleep she’d found lasts an hour or two at most. Something wakes her up, probably a nightmare or something else from her own subconscious that’s already faded. It doesn’t matter, she’s awake now either way.

She flicks the lights on and crawls back under the sheets. Sometimes that actually works, but not tonight apparently. Figures. Finally back in her own bed and she can’t even get a full nights sleep. She blames Catra and her warmth for ruining her again. _Two nights_. That’s all it took. 

She’s never liked relying on anyone for anything, and for something as fickle as sleep? It’s pathetic really. The only person she’s ever even come close to being comfortable relying on at all is Catra but even that - it wasn’t what Catra wanted. Or maybe it was; for her to rely on her as much as she did. Catra hated the imbalance, and the dependency she had with her. She learnt that a long time ago. They’ve broken that over the past few years (both by choice and against their own wills), and she really doesn’t want them to fall back into the things that helped break them. 

But if Catra wants her to depend on her, even in small ways, then surely it’s okay if she goes to her? But Catra didn’t offer that. But Catra rarely says what she means, not fully. Catra initiates games, never one to tell her what they’re playing, relying on her to figure it out. Most of the time she's either oblivious to it entirely or she's just left wondering if they were even playing at all. This is one of those times evidently.

She already knows if she doesn’t stop her head right now it’ll keep spinning till morning. So she stays. Staring up at purple fabric. And trying desperately hard not to think about anything.  
Which in some ways is a mistake in itself, because without turbulent thought, all that’s left is feeling. All that’s left to do is miss her. She has spent every single moment (awake or otherwise) with her and yet she still manages to _miss_ her and _long_ for her now.

It claws in her chest, stronger than she’s ever felt it. It demands to be satiated with even an attempt. But she fights it. She fights and she lays entirely still, wishing for sleep she knows will never come.

In the end she gives up far more quickly than she cares to admit. All it takes is one; _‘I’ll just go and see if she’s doing okay,’_ for her to be slipping out from under her covers, keeping her mind carefully blank.

It’s cold in the halls. She’s never been this exposed in them before, just her sleep clothes. She doubts she’s ever even walked these floors with her hair down. It’s strange.  
She hears footsteps so quiet she’s pretty sure she imagines them. But she recognises the pattern; spent too many nights sneaking around past curfews listening to them with a single-minded focus. 

She stops dead in her tracks, Catra doing the same when they’re face to face.  
“Hey Adora.” Catra isn’t surprised to see her at all, then again, if she heard Catra coming then the opposite is definitely true.  
“Hi.” 

It feels like coming home, which is absolutely ridiculous. She knows that. The feeling doesn’t go though. Catra’s tail winds around her leg when she gets close enough and it’s why it takes Adora a second to register that Catra’s wearing her clothes - which makes sense since she fucking gave them to her to sleep in. But her brain gets stuck on the image, that and how much she wants to throw herself into Catra’s arms, breathe her in until they’re one being. 

The silence pulls her out of it quickly enough, that and how nervous, bordering frightened and uncomfortable Catra looks. Adora knows that feeling, felt it her first night here; her first night without Catra. But Catra’s had years worth of nights without her - she ignores how the thought hurts - and it’s only because she’s _here_ that she can’t sleep. 

“Couldn't sleep?” she asks anyway, and feels like an idiot for doing it.  
“No.”  
She can’t stand how her ears droop, probably from whatever version of shame she’s feeling from admitting this supposed weakness. Anything to make her feel better right?  
“I know I said I had trouble sleeping when I got here, but Bow kinda downplayed it. On my first night I crawled into Glimmer’s bed after destroying mine.”  
And gods why does everything feel that much better when Catra laughs quietly to the ground? 

“Makes me feel a bit better I guess, there’s definitely some claw marks in the mattress now.”  
“Feathers everywhere?”  
“Didn’t go that far.”  
“Then you’re already doing better than me.”

There’s a pause and then, “I don’t want to be alone.”  
She can tell it hurts Catra to admit that with the way her ears flatten again and she burns a worried look into the floor. She thinks Adora’s going to reject her and she can’t allow that to stand, not when she feels the exact same way.  
“Me neither.”  
Catra’s lips twitch upwards on one side, ears flicking forwards. It’s not the smile she wants, but right now it means everything. She deserves to know, she deserves to know, she deserves - “I just...I don’t want to be apart from you. Not yet, not when everything-“  
“- Doesn’t feel real?” Adora sighs from relief and nods. Of course Catra gets it. Fuck she loves her so much. “Come on then.” 

And even though there’s literally all of three hallways between their rooms, she hooks her arm around Catra’s waist for the walk. Catra returns it immediately after unwinding her tail. It’s painfully reminiscent of some of their nicer memories of wandering around the Fright Zone in their little amounts of free time; arms loose on waists and shoulders, the action safe enough even back then. But Catra leans even further into her now, always better with affection when she’s tired. It’s either that or the not having to worry about any superior officers waiting around the corner to give them disapproving looks (but not saying anything like they would’ve if they held hands.) 

It’s only as they’re walking that she realises Melog isn’t following, she hasn’t seen them at all actually, unless they’re invisible. Which is entirely possible.  
“Where’s Melog?”  
“Asleep. Lucky bastard.”  
It makes her laugh (a small tired one, but a laugh all the same) and she knows Catra’s wearing a sleepy grin too. 

It’s easier, she realises. To do this, to be them, in the dark. It was always easier at night, it’s where they thrived in the Before, and it seems to be another one of those things that’s stayed the same.

Her door feels smaller than all the other times she’s stood in front of it today when they get there. It’s easier to push it open and walk inside. She takes her hand back from Catra’s hip and she’s shocked at how openly disappointed Catra looks at its loss. 

She wastes no time before shutting the door again and climbing back into bed, feeling Catra’s eyes on her the whole time. She ignores how exposed and just _seen_ it makes her feel for Catra’s sake. But once she’s settled back down Catra still doesn’t move; she’s just standing under the waterfall of soft blue-white lights that she didn’t shut off, her figure painted in oceanic purples. She’s never seen Catra as blue, always red like flame and anger. But now that blue highlights how uncomfortable and hesitant she still is and Adora’s whole body demands she make it better. 

She whispers, “Catra it’s okay, come on,” as soon as eyes swallowed in black meet hers again. It successfully coaxes her back into moving and Adora watches the way the tinted light plays with what colour is left in her eyes.

Catra curls at the end of the bed, just like almost every night in the Before. And it _hurts_ , soft and unexpectedly. Every night her whole life she wanted to pull Catra under the covers and just hold her and not worry about anything else but the pulse under her hands. But she could never have it, not in any way that she could let herself indulge in. And it broke her heart when she realised how badly she wanted it, realising it alone from her bed in Brightmoon with her body still aching from a battle against the one she loves.

 _‘This isn’t the before. This is now. You can have what you want.’_ It sounds like Mara.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

“Hey Catra, can you sleep up here tonight?”  
She lifts her head from its resting place on her arms, her heart already beginning to race. “Is something wrong?” 

The amount of times they have done this could be counted on little more than one hand - this dangerous thing where they slept alongside each other, legs and tail twisted together. A number of times as young children before they were caught (and Catra punished), once in their midteens, the nights she gave in after she was saved from Prime and the past two. Though only one of those she was actually tangled up in Adora. It already seems like a distant memory that she’d conjured through the sheer force of her wanting and wishing.

Those times as young cadets were the tailends of the worst days of Catra’s life, ones where the crushing guilt of not being good enough promised to torment her all night. When the blackness of magic quickened the pulse in her veins and blocked her airways and the only thing that could make her breathe was Adora’s hands and smell grounding her. She’d jump down from her bunk, always insisting on starting the night there even if she thought she was going to tear in two, before desperately trying to fall asleep where she should be - at Adora’s feet, where it was safe.  
It would be in vain though and she’d crawl guiltily up the side of the bed. She would try to sleep on top of the covers, just looking at Adora while she pretended to sleep, no points of contact at all. 

But then Adora would open her stupid beautiful eyes and know what she needed, would ask _“Can you sleep under the covers with me tonight?”_ knowing she wouldn’t be able to get the words out. It would be warm and it would smell like her; like safety and the only good thing in the world. They’d tangle their legs together and forget about how they weren’t allowed to do this. Well, Adora would forget, Catra would be stunned by it, as she always was whenever Adora would break a rule for her. 

When they were fifteen she had cried herself to sleep in Adora’s arms. Muffled the sound in her clothes; still hiding, always hiding. It was the last time she’d feel Adora’s arms around her like that for years. And she longed for it with everything she had, the dormant want laying repressed in her heart until Adora left. It had reared its head again then, drowning her in pain and longing and heartbreak. 

But now Adora is asking for it on her own. It’s terrifying because it means that whatever has happened for this to be asked is bad. Really, truly terribly bad. And something really bad _had_ happened - Adora had almost died. There’s few things she can imagine to be worse than that. (Most of which she’s lived through already.)

She sits up, tail curling. She focuses on keeping her ears soft and claws in, she doesn’t want to make Adora any more uncomfortable than she already must be. She’s hurting and she needs her.  
“Is it about what happened in the Heart?”  
In the dark she sees Adora open her mouth to say something but she remains silent. It’s almost comforting, knowing Adora struggles to talk about these things, even after three years with the Rebellion. Adora turns over onto her back, hands clutching at the covers over her chest.  
“Yes,” she says it quietly, vulnerable. 

But they’ve done this before. This gentleness in the dark. It never failed to make her breathless, knowing no one else got to have this. But now she’s supposes someone else does get to have this - Glimmer and Bow. She knows they’ve had sleepovers, been told as much, but...not tonight. Tonight is hers. 

She crawls up the bed, slow and careful like she’ll scare Adora if she moves too fast. She keeps their eyes met, it feels like a reverse of so many moments. It was never often that Adora _needed_ her the way Catra did. But after all these years she now realises maybe she did, she was just stronger than Catra in that regard, always letting herself suffer silently. The cracks that started showing in their early teens had been patched up almost immediately, quick enough that she always doubted whether she’d seen them in the first place. She should’ve seen it sooner, should’ve done something about it. She can do something about it now. 

She settles closer, sitting next to Adora’s chest instead of her legs. She curls her tail around her own wrist so it doesn’t betray her and wrap around Adora’s. She’s still looking at her, she feels raw.  
She needs to know if there’s anything she wants, she’s always wanted Adora to _want_ in the way she did. She _wanted_ to prove her worth, _wanted_ Adora to never leave her, to love her the same way, _wanted_ Shadow Weaver to be proud of her. She never knew what Adora wanted. She thought Adora wanted to rule the Horde with her, but apparently that wasn’t really true.  
She holds back a growl at her own thoughts. She realises the silence has stretched for minutes. She doesn’t want to be the one to break it. 

Adora reaches out her hand and it makes the breath rush out of her. She’s still not great at this, and she’s trying, but it’s hard. She doesn’t understand what to do with Adora anymore. Because as much as she wishes they could go back to the Before, to the easiness of it, she knows that too much has happened. This new thing between them though, it’s different but it’s better. For both of them. She takes her hand after a moment's hesitation. It makes her blood buzz and the fur on the back of her neck stand up. 

And here’s where she’s wrong. Because gods it was never like this in the Horde; for the first time it seems like they’re truly and utterly alone together. There’s no sleeping cadets or rebel fighters or commanding officers, it’s just...them. Them and the space between. Space she wants to eradicate. But she doesn’t. Even after everything she’s still too scared. She sucks in a deep breath, sees Adora track her movement in the darkness, only lit by the cold dim glow of lanterns hanging from the ceiling. It makes Adora’s blue-grey eyes sparkle, makes her own chest ache with love she's finally letting herself have.

“Do you…” she has to tear her eyes away, focus on even breathing and the weight of Adora’s hand in hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
She hates how hesitant she sounds. She doesn’t want to hate this, but she does. Everything she was ever told rejects this vulnerability, but she grits her teeth against it, careful not to tear skin under her fangs. She’ll get better, she _is_ getting better.

She _has_ to look back through; Adora’s too bright, draws her attention away from anything else, always has. And she’s got that damn look, the one that’s not new, the one she never knew the meaning of. The one that means love - real love - that Catra always wanted to believe in but never could. She blinks at her slowly. She doesn’t know if Adora ever truly grasped what it meant - how utterly _true_ it was and still is.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to say. I know we should talk about it but…” Adora trails off, looking back to the ceiling, “I’m still not good at this Catra. Maybe I won’t ever be.”  
She shouldn’t feel this relief. She even feels her shoulders sink with it. “It’s selfish but…I don’t want you to be. I like not feeling so alone in this.” She whispers it because it hurts to say, but she deserves to know. Know that she’s still as selfish as she’s always been.  
But Adora takes her by surprise, she smiles and whispers, “Me too.”

Catra’s tail unwinds, tight like a vice, from her wrist. She lets it fall back to the bed so she can hold Adora’s hand in two. She keeps her claws in, doesn’t want there to even be a possibility of hurting her right now. 

There’s the urge to break the charged quiet with a snide remark, like they always did when things got too intimate. But she doesn’t, a testament to her own understanding. There’s so much she wants to do but that fear of rejection - of breaking something already so fragile - creeps in, keeping her still. So for once in her life she settles for words instead of actions. They’re meant to talk right?

“Adora?” She’s still whispering.  
Adora steals her breath away with how openly she’s looking; how lovingly. “What is it?”  
She would say she's dooming herself, but she's...she's not. She wants to look away when she says it - there’s no desperate reason for her to voice this, but she just...wants her to know.  
“I love you.”  
She hears the hitch in Adora’s breath, sees the contraction in her chest and the way her lips fall open. She decides she likes taking Adora by surprise. 

Adora sits up slowly, drawing her knees back in and resting most of her weight on her left hand. The other is still cradled in Catra’s own. Her hair’s shining muted gold and silver and she looks like the goddess everyone thinks she is. She doesn’t look like the broken fighter she is deep down. The one that feels like Catra’s.  
Adora presses their foreheads together and Catra can feel love-brimming eyes on her even as her own slip closed.  
“I love you too.”

Catra wants to cry; there’s just too much, too much weight that those words hold in such a small space. Something like a sob is torn from her. She feels like they should be out in the open just so she can breathe and not suffocate. Her clawless fingers dig into thin skin, clutching the hand to her chest like a lifeline, like if she grips on hard enough Adora will hold her heartbeat in her hand. 

It all feels too real. Adora is here, alive and with her in Brightmoon’s castle of all places. She’s telling her she loves her, she’s saying it back and they _mean it_. It’s too good to be true, it’s too good, it’s -

“Can I…?”  
She just nods, she doesn’t know what Adora means but she does know that she will give gladly whatever it is that Adora is willing to ask for. If Adora asked for her heart on a plate she would rip it out herself to give it. She’s taken too much already. 

When Adora presses their lips together that suffocating feeling is back. Adora’s stealing her air, drawing the love from her lips with it. She gasps quietly for some semblance of breath but Adora simply presses closer, shifting so she doesn’t need to lean on her hand, instead bringing it up to wind around the back of Catra’s neck and into her hair. If it wasn’t completely silent, she doubts she’d even hear her own stumbling purring over the roar of blood in her ears. But Adora smiles into her lips and she doubts there’s a better feeling. 

Her arms go limp, letting the hand she was holding leave, it slips around her back as Adora pulls away, her head falling to Catra’s shoulder. The embrace is awkward with their legs between them but she doesn’t care. She finds she can’t move, or rather, she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands now, nowhere feels safe. 

She swallows against her own uneven breathing (and the tears sitting on her waterline) as she places a hand on Adora’s waist. Her hand burns where she touches her, maybe it’s She-Ra, maybe it’s just _Adora_ , she doesn’t care. Her other arm drapes across Adora’s shoulders, her hair feels so soft under it. She leans her face against the crown of Adora’s head, indulging for the moment. Adora’s in her arms, breath stuttering against her bare shoulder, her hand is in Catra’s hair holding her. Adora keeps trying to pull her closer.

She silently asks the gods why; why would she ever care about anything else?

* * *

***Adora***

* * *

There’s many reasons for her raggedy breath, there’s the crushing intimacy of the moment that threatens to swallow her. There’s also the knowledge that she just kissed Catra. (Again.) And everything is okay, in fact everything is better than okay because she’s able to hold her. There’s no universe waiting for She-Ra. 

She runs soft fingertips through short hair for good measure, feels the vibrations that pump through her chest out of time with her heartbeat. It solidifies the idea that she’s _here_ , actually and truly here. The thought settles heavy as steel, labouring her breathing again. She can’t keep in the sound she lets out; maybe it’s a cry, maybe it’s a laugh. She doesn’t know. It makes Catra stiffen against her. 

“Adora?”  
She can’t speak right now, knowing that whatever might come out will be broken beyond recognition. She holds her breath, swallows, breathes out, breathes again. The fingers in Catra’s hair tighten, she doesn’t mean to. Catra doesn’t relax. She unlocks the fingers of her left hand, moving them to curl around Catra’s bicep instead as she hooks her chin over her shoulder. She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at the end of the bed. 

Catra tries again, “Adora?”  
“You’re here, you’re really here…” she repeats it over and over. She can’t stop.  
Catra finally relaxes again, pulls in tighter and breathes back into her hair. Her right hand is tangled in the fabric on Catra’s back. She remembers the last time Catra wore her clothes, remembers how she couldn’t indulge in the foreign happiness it made her feel due to the circumstances. She can allow herself to feel it now. It stops the string of disbelieving words coming out of her mouth.

Some time later her hand drops, knuckles sore from gripping so hard. She dimly registers the soft pads of Catra’s fingers rubbing circles into the bare skin of her shoulder blades and she sinks into the feeling, turning her head in slightly, floating in Catra’s comforting warmth. 

“I meant what I said you know, I’m not leaving you, I’m staying with you.”  
It’s a testament to her own comfort that she doesn’t startle at the first words spoken into the silence. She smiles, her eyes tear up, she can’t stop either of them. She’s imagined Catra saying those words so many times, or something so very similar, rewritten them into her memories of Thaymore on the worst nights. But it wasn’t the only thing Catra said to her in the Heart.

“You mean everything else as well?”  
“Yes.” 

There’s a pause obvious enough for her to pull away. There’s so much conviction in her eyes when Adora meets them; like she’s demanding she believe her. She drags the hand still on Catra’s arm down to the hand on her waist, feeling the shift in the ligaments as Catra softens her hold. Adora’s other hand comes up to find its now-familiar place on the side of Catra’s face. It’s quiet for a while. Catra tries to speak again but nothing comes out, she closes her eyes, leans into Adora’s hand as her arm comes up to cover that one too. 

Everything is thick with tears when she manages to ask, “When you - When you said ‘always’ did you mean it?”  
Catra snaps her eyes open again, sounds halfway to crying, when she says, “Of course I did. I wouldn’t lie about that.”  
She sighs Catra’s name quietly, practically in awe. She’s not sure if she’s crying but she wouldn’t be surprised if salt is making a steady path down her cheeks. Her voice is practically ruined already.  
“I’m sorry Catra, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry it took me losing you to realise how much you meant to me, how much I needed you, how much I loved you…”

Catra rubs small circles into her hand, “Adora it’s okay -”  
She shakes her head because, “It’s not, it’s really not but - but it will be.” Catra’s hopeful little smile is one of the most beautiful things Adora’s ever seen, even with the glow of tears in her eyes. (Maybe even because of it.) “Really Catra, you mean everything to me...you always have. I think - I _know_ \- you always will.”

She hears Catra swallow in the silence. Then her hands are torn away, she doesn’t have time to respond in any way before Catra’s holding her face on either side and pulling her closer. Her hands land either side of Catra’s legs to stop herself falling when their lips meet for a third time. 

A sound of surprise spills over but it’s silenced immediately. She tastes the ocean and gets the confirmation that, yes, she had been crying (still is.) It doesn’t matter, not with how delicately Catra kisses her, long and loving like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. It’s held as long as Catra seems able of it, but she doesn’t stop. She kisses her again, and again, and again. 

Whatever part of her brain that’s still working realises she has no clue what she’s doing. But it’s okay, she thinks, because neither does Catra and she doesn’t seem to care. Her stuttering purr making Adora’s lips tingle and head hazy. There’s barely even seconds between kisses, even though she knows they’re both breathless. A careful hand slides up into her hair and Catra smiles when it makes her sigh. 

Her hands itch to touch her, it takes her a few moments to remember that she _can_. She wants - intends - to be gentle about it, the way Catra is with her. But then Catra sucks lightly on her bottom lip and her hands are clutching at her waist. Catra’s hands grip harder as well, she growls quietly, unintentionally, against her lips. For a split second Adora worries about her claws, but it’s unfounded.

She pulls away quickly, shifting to sit back on her knees, but unable to move anything else even an inch. “Sorry.”  
It takes them both a while before opening their eyes. Catra’s other hand (the one not still playing with her hair) trails down to her shoulder, stroking there reassuringly as she laughs quietly, “No, it’s okay, I liked it.”  
She should’ve guessed that from the way she’s still purring. She whispers, “Yeah me too.”  
Even in the cold light she can see the light flush on Catra’s face and the fond roll of her eyes before she kisses her again. 

She’s not really sure she knows what she wants to do, but she knows with absolute certainty that she never wants to stop kissing Catra. There’s nothing she can compare it to. The rest of the world just isn’t this warm and soft and caring. The world has never made her feel loved the way Catra’s smiles, lost to her lips, do. The way that her hands, so capable of hurting, treating her like silk, do.

She wants Catra closer. She’s not sure when that happened.  
_‘Oh please, when_ haven’t _you wanted Catra closer?’_  
She doesn’t have an answer to that actually. But she listens to her head anyway, hands that still lie on Catra’s waist tugging gently. Catra doesn’t even hesitate to follow the wordless suggestion, their lips break apart as she comes closer, rising up on her knees.

Adora doesn’t mean to stare, she really doesn’t, but Catra’s lips are shining red and she’s leaning over her and the lights are making her glow like starshine and neither of them are breathing steadily and - “Hey Adora.”

It makes her laugh breathily as she looks up at her, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”  
“You’re kissing me, dummy.” There’s not even the bite of teasing - Catra’s too breathless and she’s smiling too widely against her lips when she tries to seal them back together. Adora lets her, holds the kiss for a few more moments. Drinking in how much louder Catra’s purr can get when she rubs tiny paths along her sides with her thumbs.

“Well I know that -“  
“- Then why are you still talking?” Catra says it while she’s stroking through her hair, presses a kiss to her jaw when she’s done.  
That haze in her head doesn’t lift, in fact it comes down harder until all she can say is, “Catra -“  
“Please Adora, we can - we can talk about it later but I think I’ve thought about this everyday since I was fifteen years old.”

She’s about to make a, _‘thought you said always?’_ type comment to distract herself from the overwhelming amount of feelings the words produce. But Catra said she doesn’t want to talk and she’s wrapping her arms tight around her neck and she’s not really sure why she ever stopped kissing her. 

Catra feels as soft as the clouds she’s soared through, but the bite of cold air in her lungs isn’t there when she breathes her in. She’s so _warm_ , she’s fire under her hands and every point of contact feels like a hearth. Adora’s sure she’s found home in Catra’s arms. 

Her hands on Catra’s hips slide around her properly with the need to just have her as close as possible. It’s a miscalculation on her part because all it does is pull Catra off balance and then they’re falling back into the bed.  
Catra manages to catch herself on her hands above her. There’s barely a second of stunned silence before the both of them dissolve into laughs. She moves her legs from their trapped position, and holds Catra’s shaking form to her chest where she giggles into her neck.

 _‘Still the best sound in the world.’_ She’ll tell her that someday.  
Catra’s laugh gives way to a purr after a while (she seems shocked at how easily she lets it slip out.) She just holds her tighter, breathes her in deeper till both of them stop shaking. 

“Well...that was fun.”  
Catra’s short resulting snort all but says _‘dork’_ at her. She knows she’s smiling like a fool into a dark room. She can’t remember why she would ever care when she feels this happy.

* * *

***Catra***

* * *

She doesn’t particularly want to roll off of Adora but it’s all just a bit too much too soon. She’s got Adora’s laugh chiming in her head and her scent and her _taste_ overpowering everything and it’s just...a lot. And besides, she doesn’t go far (doesn’t think she could at this point.)  
She lies on her back, Adora’s arm an unintentional headrest behind her as she looks up at the lights dripping from the ceiling. 

She knows Adora’s looking at her, but she also knows that Adora's cheeks and lips are stained red, that her heart is beating wildly in her chest from kissing her senseless and she can’t look at her and - and she does it anyway. Because really when has she ever been able to stop looking at her?

She keeps it at a glance filled with smiles. She forces down another laugh, this one fuelled by disbelief. She just _kissed Adora_. Again. And she _kept_ kissing Adora. And Adora let her. Adora kissed her back. She's got the sound of Adora’s contented sighs branded into her ears, she imagines they’ll be playing in her mind for the rest of her life. 

She realises how loud she’s purring in response to her winding thoughts and tries to tamp it down at least a little. She’s surprised when it actually works. It makes her confident enough to look at Adora again, only to find her half-scowling at the ceiling. She brushes her tail along Adora’s leg, sees her thaw a little. 

“What is it?”  
Adora whispers, “Is this okay?” and her whole chest aches.  
“Adora trust me, it’s more than okay.” Maybe it’s the way Adora’s biting her lip, or maybe it’s the fact she can’t stop her eyes shifting but, “You don’t believe me do you?”  
Adora looks so _small_. “Can you blame me?”  
“Not really.”

She sits up quickly, freeing Adora’s arm before settling back down on her side. Adora watches her the whole time, like she’s afraid she might leave. She’s an idiot if she thinks she’s going anywhere else tonight.  
“Come here.” Maybe she should be giving Adora a choice in the matter but - but it doesn’t matter because Adora’s relaxed, almost grateful, smile could bring armies to their knees.

She shifts upwards so that when Adora turns she can tuck her head in against her chest. The arm that was under her now curled in the space between them. Adora’s other one is cautious to slide round her waist, careful and doubting in the way it presses into her spine. It makes her purr roll through the both of them like an engine. It stutters for a second with her own breath when Adora presses a hesitant kiss to her collarbone. She’s unsure of the exact origin of the gasp that creeps from her throat, maybe from the foreign feeling or maybe just the unexpectedness of it. She places a matching one in Adora’s hair in response. (Just because she’s always wanted to, because she wants Adora to know that she can.)

She wraps her own arms back around Adora’s shoulders, she doesn’t think they’ve ever been closer. She knows if they fall asleep like this their legs will end up a tangled mess - and despite Adora feeling the way she is, Catra finds her chest aching with how much she wants that. To wake up with Adora in her arms, to have protected her the way she always wanted to.

They stay like that a long while. Her purr never leaves, it starts fading sometimes, but then Adora’s squeezing her arm around her, hand gripping instead of resting and it comes back full force. Adora turns her head at one point, it takes a few seconds for her to realise it’s so she can have her ear against the source.  
She decides then that she’s not going to fall asleep until Adora does. If she needs her purr to feel okay then she’ll never fucking stop. And besides, it’s not like it would be unusual of her to do that; she’s stayed up whole nights before just because Adora couldn’t sleep. She’ll never sleep again if that’s what she needs.

“Catra?”  
She hums a drowsy response into her hair, twirls a strand of it round her finger.  
“Is this real?”  
She snaps her eyes open. “Is what real?”  
“Us?”

Something stops. The world, her heart perhaps. Gods Adora sounds so _scared_ , she just holds her tighter, can’t imagine ever letting her go. She swallows.  
_‘Adora deserves to hear this, it’s okay, I can say it now. It’s not going to hurt either of us.’_  
“...I want it to be. I don’t want to feel bad about - about loving you anymore.”  
The hand between them moves, fingertips fluttering along the fur they find. There’s a rough inhale, shaky exhale then, “Me neither. You asked me what I want, and I want - I want this...you.” 

The low, silent purr in her chest stutters out with shock before it starts whirring like a machine. She can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed, not when Adora ghosts a smile against her neck, breath making the fur stand on end.  
“I want you here Catra, with me, like this.”

She’s heard those words before, they took the breath out of her then as well. But the simple little _‘like this’_ while they’re wrapped around each other makes her heart pound like a drum in her chest.  
A wave of _‘I love you,’_ ricochets through her head again, drowns everything else out. She wants to say the words again, but Adora has rendered her speechless. She just needs to look at her again. And it may mean she sacrifices this hold for a moment but her eyes are worth it. 

As soon as her hand withdraws Adora tenses against her, fingers curled tight in her sleep clothes. It only worsens when she shifts her whole body away slightly. She uses said withdrawn hand to lift Adora’s chin from her chest, hates that she sees fear in her eyes. It melts away a little when she strokes her thumb along her jaw, disappears entirely when she nods.  
There’s no noise of surprise this time when she kisses her, no hesitation from either of them. Just as with everything else, it’s easier. Adora _melts_ in her hands like liquid gold. She’s never felt more powerful (and maybe that’s hyperbolic of her but it doesn’t matter, not when she finally has Adora like this.)

She doesn’t let herself get too caught up in it this time, the kiss purposeful and held but nothing more. She may very well be addicted to the way Adora’s eyelashes flutter before she manages to open her eyes again, the softness in it, how disbelieving and unaware she looks.  
She finally manages to speak again, “Me too.”  
She wanted to say that last time as well but she was just too broken to do so. Adora always did like fixing things. 

Adora tucks herself in this time, curling back into the hold eagerly, nose nudging at the underside of her jaw in a way that makes the both of them smile.  
“Can we do this again tomorrow?”  
She doesn't know which part Adora’s referring to but right now she’ll agree to any of it, even the emotional stuff that makes her feel wrung out and (even more) exhausted. 

Before she can agree though, Adora’s hand runs through the thin fur on the ridge of her spine, effectively cutting her off.  
“I _can_ sleep alone. You don’t _have_ to be here, you can have your own room for as long as you want, but…I missed this. I missed you. I - You make me feel safe.”  
“Adora…” She doesn’t even know how to respond to that.  
“It’s okay, you can have all of tomorrow to decide if you want this again. I just want you to be happy here.”  
It sounds small. She can’t have that. Another kiss gets lost in blonde hair.  
“Of course I want this again, I want this every night you’ll let me have it.”  
“...So every single night then?”

She has to swallow around the _‘She loves me,’_ making her head dizzy. She’s not sure she believes it yet, not fully. There’s a very good chance she may never truly believe that after so long telling herself it was impossible. But like with so many things, she can _try_.  
“Sounds like a plan Princess.”

She doesn’t know how long she spends caught up in just holding Adora in her arms, just thinking and swimming in how safe she feels. (In Brightmoon of all places.) What keeps her awake is trying to figure out just how to tell Adora that. She’s almost there when her purr stops and it has Adora shifting, whispering, “What is it?” into her chest.  
She was doubting she’d ever perfect it anyway. 

“...You make me feel safe too. Always have. The Fright Zone was...awful, I was - I wasn’t ever really, truly _safe_ but you - our bed - that was as good as it got.”  
Adora stokes up and down her spine through her clothes, probably just to get her purr back. She doesn’t care what the reason is; it is _acceptance_ either way.  
“Glad I’m not the only one who thought of it as ‘our’ bed. Those nights you weren’t with me...they were the worst of my life back then. I would always be so scared that I’d hurt you, or that someone else had.”

She really doesn’t have anything to say to that because...yeah. She usually was hurting - she doesn’t know a night she slept alone that wasn’t drenched in her own self-loathing or heartache or the bone-weariness that she came to associate with the Black Garnet chamber. Sometimes, as pathetic as it was, it was just because her own feelings had made an appearance. Adora had looked at her a certain way, or she’d done something to set her soul on fire, or she’d just existed in such an _Adora_ way that it would start choking her. And she just couldn’t handle it, so she hid. And it killed her to do, but she did it.  
Other times it was shame; of her own weaknesses, of letting others see them. And she’d need to sleep alone just to prove that she could, that she wasn't so entirely dependent on Adora for everything. 

Her silence is telling, she knows that. And Adora swallows, body a little tenser than it was a moment ago. “I did things that hurt you, I know that, and I want you to tell me so I don’t do them again but...not tonight okay?”  
She sighs. “Okay. But only if you do the same.” She strokes through her hair, voice as gentle as she can make it when she speaks again. It doesn’t come out as more than a whisper. That’s probably her own shame doing that though. “I know - I know you missed me during...everything, but you had other people. Were you ever...lonely, without me?”

She hates that she wants it to be true, that she still has that black part of her that wants Adora to have missed her as much as she did.  
It’s equally quiet, but resolute when Adora says, “Of course I was lonely. I started a whole new life in the course of one day, I lost so much so suddenly - I lost you. And it was my own fault -”

She thinks about saying something, saying _“It wasn’t your fault,”_ like she ought to because _it wasn’t_. It was hers for being blindsided by her own pain and pride that she couldn’t see anything beyond _them_ and what Adora was doing to them. The world narrows when she’s with her; falls away entirely sometimes. It made the Fright Zone bearable. It made her life in the Before bearable, because she could _forget_ when she was with her. At least at first. It got harder, that resentment she kept bottled up getting fuller and fuller.

It would’ve broken eventually, the day Adora left just made it happen sooner. She’s come to realise that over the last few weeks, and her regrets come with cliff-edges. It’s some ghost of reassuring, but not comforting in the slightest.  
She’ll let Adora know her thoughts one day. She’s not sure when but...it’ll happen. She deserves them after everything. But once again she stays silent. Because she thinks Adora needs this, to say it out loud for her. That raw honesty in her voice tells her that she shouldn’t dare stop it or it might never come again. 

“- For the first time I didn’t have _you_ , I didn’t have my best friend with me. I spent every day of my life before the sword waiting for the moments I’d get to spend with you. And suddenly I just - you weren’t there anymore…” Adora manages to bundle in closer and she _has_ to be able to hear the pounding of her heart.  
_‘She missed me.’_ She knew that - knows that - but can’t imagine a lifetime wherein she would tire of the words.  
“Gods this room always felt too big, too empty. The whole castle did - still does honestly - but I’d turn corners expecting to see you and you wouldn’t be there and it - it broke my heart Catra.” Her claws slide out, catching gently in the skin of Adora’s shoulders while her tongue feels leaden. “Don’t - don’t say anything. I just...wanted you to know.”

She curls her tail around Adora’s ankle, purrs a little louder for her. And Adora sinks deeper into the bed, breath evening out into a steady tide once her near-tears subsides. It’s another lull of silence that almost has both of them falling to sleep despite the heaviness of it. But there’s still one last thing for her to say.

She whispers, “I know you won’t ask, so I’ll tell you. I was lonely too. Even with Scorpia and Entrapta, they...they weren’t you. They didn’t know me and I didn’t let them. No one’s ever understood me like you do ‘Dora.”  
“You wanna sleep don’t you?” It sounds like she’s smiling at least.  
“No.” Her own yawn betrays her. As does the unintentional sound that escapes at the end.  
She can feel the shake of Adora’s small, silent laugh reverberate through her. “Only ever call me Dora when you’re sleepy.”

She...hadn’t realised she did that. She grumbles, “Emotions are tiring,” as an excuse.  
“Yeah...they are.”  
She nuzzles into golden hair, floating in how Adora smells like candle light and forest air. “We can talk more in the morning okay? Figure out what we’re gonna tell the others.”  
“Mm, kinda forgot about that.”  
“I know you did.”  
“Can’t wait to wake up with you. Always wanted to.” 

The words are starting to slur as sleep drags down on the both of them, stronger now. She just can’t stop purring. Adora tangles their ankles together, then hums into her chest when Catra’s tail winds around her knee.

“I love you Catra.”  
“I love you too Adora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's fucking done. Sadly this is probably the best thing I've ever made. I've peaked here lads.  
> Did it get a little self fulfilling at the end? Yeah. Guess what, I don’t care, they're cute. And I wanted Adora to have her turn saying 'I love you' first. (And I went a little overboard on the home theme, I don't give a shit.)
> 
> Adora: World hard and cold, Catra warm and soft. (She’s right of course.)
> 
> Don't know when other installments of the series will be coming because my main fic and school are taking up so much of my brain power but I will continue this series eventually. (But main fic isn't that far from being done so...)
> 
> * * *
> 
> {Self-fulfilling nonsense that didn't fit into the story because I didn’t want them making out in the hallway before they even got back to Adora's room: }  
> Catra pulls her head up slightly from its hiding spot in her neck, hand gentle on the side of her face, and when she looks at her she feels like she can’t breathe. It’s the Heart all over again; she’s looking up at Catra, wrapped in her arms and close enough to kiss her. But Catra’s in her arms too, she’s aware of the pulse under her fingertips, it’s not drowned out by the beat of the planet echoing through their bodies.
> 
> They still need to talk. She knows that, _she knows that_. But talking is the last thing on her mind right now, everything just singing Catra’s name over and over. She knows she grips Catra tighter, if only because it forces them closer, makes whatever strange angle they had found themselves in right itself. 
> 
> “I’m real Adora, this time we’re real.”  
> She almost cries, the words striking deep into that fear that still lingers.


End file.
